... and no, not this week’s coming words but what’s in
my drinks cabinet: – it’s single malt; Highland Park for preference, (Dubonnet
indeed!!) and I raise a glass to each of you who contributed, commented and
nominated so ably last week.
Hard too to choose a winner,
but after some blind stabbing with a hat pin I’ve eventually plumped for two: Patricia’s ‘Kat Shelton’ and AR Martin’s ‘Marital bliss’ - hope to
see more of this writing, and if you've friends of similar ilk please invite them .
Words for the coming week are: grant stodge volume
Entries
by midnight Thursday 7th July, new
words and winners posted on Friday 8th
July
Well that was a huge surprise! Congratulations to AR Martin, with whom I am delighted to share the honours. Funny how some word combinations just don't want to play nice with each other, while others form an immediate bond. Such is the case with this week's prompts. Within a short period of time, scenarios for both my serializations had begun to take shape. They still need work, of course, but are dove-tailing very nicely.
ReplyDeleteCongrats AR Martin and Patricia. Looking forward to this coming weeks entries.
DeleteI know what you mean about the words, although they were ideal for Little Martyn last week I struggled to write it, but that was more down to my emotional state. I spent most of the week in a grumpy mood, having to close down projects that were no longer viable due to the prevailing circumstances. Taken a deep breath this morning and onwards.
definitely congrats to Patricia and AR, hoping for more from our newcomer. Delighted to have you playing along with us.
DeleteA remembered question [Threshold 121]
ReplyDeleteSuch had been the volume of variegate experience – stodge-full but far from boring – I’d forgot O’Bedrun’s calligraphic parchments pertaining to my father and only now thought to question Vetch, who’d very likely know.
‘What status – value, even – has been granted to me? Via him?’
Sliding eyes denied Vetch’s claim of ignorance. Revealed the greed-bred underpinnings of the love implied long-held for me.
Along with my stupid wishful-thinking.
He blustered. Attempted masculine rapport with Ravenscar.
As Ravenscar refused it, it dawned on me he’d never valued me for what additional benefits I might bring.
Had almost never valued me at all.
first class instalment, such sharp writing, brilliant.
DeleteAn insightful installment with, as Antonia put it so succinctly, sharp and brilliant writing. To consider oneself as having virtually no value (or at least in the eyes of another) is a hard pill to swallow.
DeleteLost for words on this one as the sheer sharp writing.
DeleteIf The Walls Could Talk
ReplyDeleteHenry lives in my walls. I picture him as a stodgy old codger. He often speaks to me, the volume of his voice so low that I must concentrate very hard to hear him.
"Grant me freedom," he pleads.
I smile.
"Ask again tomorrow."
How very sly. And wicked. And just as sly the insertion of the prompts.
Deletevery sly indeed! Saying so much in so few words!
DeleteI love this so much. The reader is ensnared in your words as much as much as poor old Henry.
DeleteKursaal (Episode Twenty Seven) -- "The Caledonians"
ReplyDeleteThe Caledonians claimed descent from Bonnie Prince Charlie. None challenged this. Appearance suggested they wielded claymores as skillfully as bagpipes. None dared inquire what was worn beneath the kilts either.
The marching quartet possessed a voluminous repertoire. Airy melodies meandering through fragrant heather and dolorous dirges stodging through murky marsh. Requests were accepted and, when it suited, sometimes even granted.
Not every Kursaal patron appreciated the skirl, grimacing with hands over ears and giving the Scotsmen a wide berth. However, a chosen few became ardent fanatics, so beguiled that ever after they were unable to enjoy any other musical style.
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To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale, please visit:
http://www.novareinna.com/kursaal.html
A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
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"dolorous dirges stodging through murky marsh" - superb!
Deleteyes! Best line of the week so far!
DeleteMust agree with Sandra and Antonia. I'll let you into a secret marching bands give me an awkward glazed grinning expression when heard in public, but my kids have cured me of that.
DeleteLoving your work.
Rosebud and I are much earlier than usual because we'll be camping with uncertain internet the rest of the week.
ReplyDeleteThe Adventures of Rosebud, Pirate Princess #32
Revolutionary Priorities
Other ships tend to be stodgy, but not Natasha. Those old ships rate interior volume above mobility and firepower. Freighters like to follow this rule, but they’re always granted protection details. It’s good money for zippy, occasionally piratical ships who know how to compare size and weaponry properly. Of course the other ships like to sing “The World Turned Upside Down” when they think we can’t hear.
Short, sweet and very welcome. Thank you Rosie - enjoy your camping.
Deletegreat piece, Rosie, enjoy yourself, come back full of ideas...
DeleteAlways a unique piece week after week. I applaud your imagination and the variety you bring to each entry.
DeleteWhat a lovely unique world you have created, a fascinating insight into the ships in Rosebuds world. Enjoy the camping, I love camping with my girls, especially when the wifi is uncertain. :D
DeleteChange of focus [186]
ReplyDeleteDS Ben Brickwood knew there were formulae for estimating volumes of various solids, but maths had never been his strong point. Implying knowledge he didn’t possess, he nodded towards the man they’d come to question. ‘What d’you reckon to the stodge capacity of Mister Snake-charmer then?’
DC Henry Moth frowned. ‘About 300?’
‘300? 300 what?’
‘Cubic centimetres. Granted, I had to guesstimate his waist measurement –‘
‘How d’you work that out?’
‘Four thirds of the radius cubed times pi–‘
A blink, then, ‘Yeah. Well done lad. Next question, are you going to question him or will I?’
‘You are.’
[First attempt far too hastily posted]
clever use of maths there, Sandra! Really liked that episode
DeleteHad to chuckle at this. As ever, the dialogue exchange is snappy, snazzy and infinitely enjoyable. All your writing is admirable but this serial is a special delight.
DeleteVery clever sharp witted dialogue (as always).
DeleteLove the stodge capacity line in particular.
Cripplegate Junction/Part 52-Shrinking Violet
ReplyDeleteTurning down the wireless volume ("Billy Cotton's Bandshow" could be obnoxiously loud at times) Violet sifted through recipes in search of a replacement for tea cakes. Granted, her most recent attempts had been disastrous -- stodgy jam roly poly in particular -- but she had to find something to improve trade. Canteen profits were alarmingly low and the Station Master was becoming cross.
Violet didn't like it when the Station Master was cross with her. He would lapse into his native tongue and although she failed to understand a single word, the hostility of the tone was quite terrifying enough, thank you!
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To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale please visit:
http://www.novareinna.com/cripplegate.html
A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
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Billy Cotton's Band Show!! In hindsight that was SO dreadful, along with suet roly poly. How well you evoke the aura of this series.
Deletehave to agree, it was awful but somehow it fitted that time, my parents loved it. I hated it. Yet, I have a strong twinge of nostalgia reading that episode. Thanks! Fluidly easy writing, great depictions going on still.
DeleteA lovely piece set in a time when Billy Cotton was the marmite of his era. poor violet I hope she is set to impress.
DeleteI much preferred Henry Hall, I used to deliver His newspaper back in 1984-1985.
Infinity 154
ReplyDelete(removed because I suddenly thought I'd missed a prompt, I hadn't!)
This volume of my journal be about filled. Next port we visit I havta buy a new one. That means finding a place to store the old one that won’t be seen by eyes that are best kept from such things. I could bury it under the stodge cook calls breakfast but perhaps not. God grant us landfall soon, we need supplies and grog. A mutiny will erupt if we don’t restock.
Meantime the search for the answer to the Thing eludes me. Not allowed, says Blackbeard. Nothing on board the Infinity should elude me. Tis my ship after all.
Really, it would be so easy to make Infinity an honorary winner each and every week ... but then I'd want to do the same for others ... This a particularly satisfying episode, thank you.
DeleteFound this to be particularly entertaining. I'm not surprised you thought you'd missed a prompt. I have to admit, I had trouble spotting them also...not that I tried very hard. Too caught up in the Captain's musings to worry about such trifles.
DeleteI look forward to Infinity each week, and I'm never disappointed. This week I'm reminded of the rich and exciting world before we measured and monitored everything. The situation on Infinity troubles the Cap'n deeply and he owns his responsibility. In today's world it would be placed on a risk register, reviewed once a month and job done.
DeleteChange of focus [187]
ReplyDeleteGiven the volume of evidence generated by half a dozen murders – witness statements, door-to-door, forensics, post-mortem findings and CCTV responses to press coverage – plus the alibis of six times six potential murders to be verified, it was hardly surprising DI Pettinger, Acting SIO, failed to express gratitude on discovering half the ‘extras’ he’d been granted were still wet behind the ears, and another quarter stodge-brained past-its.
Ben Brickwood commiserated. ‘Put one of each in with Mister Snake-charmer, Keep changing them about and get him properly bamboozled.’
‘That’ll work?’
‘No, but he’ll confess to anything just to get out of here.’
A double dose this week? How did we get so lucky? Again, this elicited a chuckle. Love the idea of confessing to anything just to get out. I do so love Pettinger!
DeleteThere is nothing quite like a double dose of Pettinger, and what a treat. A genius ploy by Brickwood, I could do with one such as he on my team.
DeleteThe Bitter Field
ReplyDeleteWe were boys conscripted,
convinced of glory unrestricted.
Journeyed from another land,
welcomed to the somme with gun in hand.
Shells above, and mines beneath our feet.
Granted no escape from the constant battle heat.
The shattering volume like a million beasts of Hell.
Men merge with the field, shredded where they fell.
Under the metal rain of carnage, between the lakes of blood,
our limbs are reaching from death, through the stodge of human mud.
closing my eyes, I wander to the peaceful Sussex Weald,
where I pray to roam again someday with deaths release from this bitter field.
What powerful images you conjure here, William. And what an exceptionally suited title. I must admit my knowledge of World War I is sadly lacking, but this piece could easily apply to any battlefield. The last two lines remind me of "A Scottish Soldier." I've said this before, but I'll say it again. How you managed to pull this off every week will remain a mystery to me.
DeleteThis, in my opinion, one of your very best. WWI is a period I am much drawn to, plus I have letters sent back by my grandmother's brothers (an age when writing seemed tobe a skill more widely spread). CAnnot pick a favourite line, they are all so good.
DeleteLittle Martyn 1665 Part 5
ReplyDeleteOld ma Sagworth hammered on Elsa’s door, “come out ya winchester goose”
Elsa Startled "Who grants you favour to nose round my business"
“Tailor John is dead, I know he was poking your stodge, and I saw you leaving with a bundle, I want my share, or the Yeoman want be seeking a tattler”
Elsa Stumbles forth Sweating. The old maids eyes swell to equal the volume of Elsa’s Bubo, as she backs away. Elsa Stumbles and crashes upon the old woman, slavering.
Pinned the old woman screams a gargle as she takes in her quarries drool.
This is such a delight with such vivid images. "Ya winchester goose" is slur I will definitely have to try and use at some point.
Delete"poking your stodge" - a phrase I wish I'd thought of!
DeleteThis, the language and the tale, gets richer by the week.