Firstly, apologies for my lack of posts this week -- a week without time spent on 'Mercy', my current wip, left me desperate to pick it up again and note down the random ideas I had while away (and I'm not done yet!) A good time had, though, weather kind and I re-established my liking for mussels, scallops and whisky.
Jim's struggles to post fill me with despair as I have
no remedy to suggest. There seems to be some blame levelled at Google, who
apparently recently took over Blogger, but the lack of logic – why do comments
stick but not posts? – defeats me. If the problem persists all I can do is ask if
someone else has the know-how to set up a site with similar functions.
What MIGHT be a solution - the site might be full. I propose going to the archives and attempting to delete some of the 472 posts, starting from December 2013, trusting you have all saved what you'd like to keep
What was easier this week was the picking of a winner -
I was enchanted by Antonia's incorporation of Charon in her untitled piece, but
much enjoyed all other entries.
Entries by midnight Thursday 19th May, new words posted Friday 20th
Congrats Antonia! :)
ReplyDelete@Sandra I'm down with clearing some of the archives, if that fixes the issue. We definitely don't want to miss new entries! Or a new blog could work with a link here in case anyone misses the switch.
Glad you enjoyed your time away!
thank you, Sandra! That was attempt no 3, the first two refused to flow and that is what it's about, easy writing makes for easy reading. When it did get going, it surprised me...
ReplyDeleteThe clearing out might be a solution, 475 is a lot of words! It's a 'try everything' situation, those of us who are still here want to go on being here, if you see what I mean! Where would I be without 'it's Wednesday, challenge day' and 'it's Friday, who came top and what words are ready for this week...'
Good news about your time away and your bursting to get back to the writing.,that's when it's really special. Go write (after you delete a couple of hundred entries...)
I'll keep checking. If the issue gets resolved then much like The Terminator, I'll be back. :)
ReplyDeleteFingers crossed ... but is this not a successful post? (rather than a comment?) (I've deleted ~90 posts, and will do more, but it is a laborious business)
DeleteI can post brief comments, etc., but if I upload anything over a dozen or so words, it doesn't stick. I've also now noticed that below the "Publish" button is a notification that the site is protected by reCAPTCHA and Google privacy policy. Maybe that has something to do with it.
DeleteAnybody else see that notice, or is it just me?
DeleteI guess I'll just check back periodically in the event the problem resolves itself. In the meantime, my fingers are crossed that Jim has better luck and to all, keep that plume waving....!!!
DeleteI have seen it, Patricia, but it has been applied externally, certainly not by me.
Deletewhy can't things be left as they were? My daughter is fighting a mobile phone at the moment, she can't put the name by the contact, she can't answer it, she has to avoid voicemail (it uses data, crafty bunch) and so it goes on. The button phones were good enough, surely! And what we have here is ;precious and needed, and we can't tell anyone about it!
DeleteThe Wedding Dress
ReplyDeleteShe found the scrap of lace tossed by the tide, half buried in the sand.
At her lodgings she rinsed it the sink. Cryptic messages sewn into to the stitching were revealed. Placed with the other scraps it found its place and wedded. But what she held flimsily in her hands remained far from the whole garment.
Decision made she spoke the words. “Take me to yourself”.
Static crackled as the temporal channel split wide. Her stomach lurched as she tumbled toward her next destination. Wherever in the world that might turn out to be.
Oh, I love the epic promise in this!
Deletevivid depictions here, for sure! Good one, David.
DeleteA very cool idea! Loved the mysterious messages sewn into the stitching.
DeleteAn impending voyage to Anywhere! Well done, David!
DeleteThis is one of may favourites for this week
DeleteMaking a move [Threshold 394]
ReplyDeleteTo an appropriately excoriating soundtrack provided by human agony and the cawing, gorging triumph of disputating vultures as they snatched flesh from ground, from victim and from each other's beaks, we assessed our chances of escape, The lace-like trickle of blood from the newly-screwed (now dead), become tide and puddled. Cage-wall screws were loosened in the ground. Mutely, mutually attuned, we calculated. Decided them vulnerable enough to be toppled by a quad-bike shove. Stealthily we made our move, arming, as best we could, our outer limbs with pannier lids.
Engine fired, Raven's grin encouraged. 'On a count of three –'
here's some more vivid depictions to go with it... strong instalment in every way.
DeleteA horrible soundtrack to be sure! Liked your use of 'lace' to describe the trickle of blood. I hope they get clear!
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 191
ReplyDeleteSarg sensed it in the movement of the bushes and plants and in the breeze lacing her scales.
'They’re almost here.’ she decided.
She wiffled her whiskers and, stopping only to warn the sentries, headed back toward Base-Burrow at a run. Expecting a tide of questions as she entered the main run she met only the guard she had passed on leaving.
He nodded respectfully and muttered stoically as she repeated her warning, ‘Yuh kin rely on me Sarg.’
‘We need every ‘Dillo, so no ‘eroics, mind,’ she reminded him, scuttling into the darkness.
The guards ‘Yes’um.’ echoed after her.
Tunneled tension very evident in this episode, Terrie.
Deletethis is leading us into - what I like, until the next installment arrives, we don't know where Sarge is going or what's happening, a delightful image producing interlude.
DeleteLoved the phrase 'breeze lacing her scales.' I am very invested in this story and what to know what happens next. :)
DeleteChange of focus [470]
ReplyDeleteThe slow-uprising crimson tide of anger that flushed the desk sergeant's face, propelled by both embarrassment and anger at Philly Stepcart's scorn, bode ill for his living long enough to enjoy his pension.
Observing this, the mostly sweet-natured Ben Brickwood (he impish rather than vindictive) decided the time had come to show fraternal loyalty (and knew Philly not that touchy)
'So are you planning a full-on white lace wedding? Aleks in velvet knickerbockers?'
Philly grinned, 'Scarlet lace more appropriate, you think? Yes, and me lacking a father, I thought I'd ask you to do the honours and give me away.'
I loved the 'velvet knickerbockers' image.
Deletethis is an evening of vivid visions, brilliant stuff, throwing the descriptions into the main theme like confetti, and as attractive too, velvet knickerbockers and all...
DeleteVelvet knickerbockers also caught my eye. :) Loved the camaraderie between Philly and Ben.
DeleteHmm... did this one post?
ReplyDeleteOnly as a four word comment Jim - sorry.
DeleteCurses and double curses!
DeleteBlame It On the Nun [17]
ReplyDeleteI’ve never been paid for arson, but the satisfying crackle and look of rapturous glee on the face of the lace-covered nun beside me mark this as one of my top jobs. Gray disappeared somewhere – as smooth and quiet as a windless tide – and we’re watching the Akheron’s front doors.
The nun clutches her sword against her chest, breath quick. “He’ll know it’s me. Akheron’s deciding whether to come out or go below.”
“Below?” Rach asks.
“He has a panic room.”
“What about his guests?”
“Oh, he’ll make them fend for themselves, don’t worry.”
The doors slam open.
Another shining example of the glorious breadth of your imagination, Holly!
Deletethe doors slam open, says it all - slammed shut would have been a different sound and effect, and it's that tiny attention to detail which makes this serial so good.
ReplyDeletehere goes with my submission this week.
ReplyDeleteHoliday Memories
The lace edged tide rolled onto the beach. I stood watching, enchanted by its delicacy, trying to decide whether the heaving waters were as outstanding just ike years ago, when we held hands and watched the newborn foam trickle into the large empty footprints left from my walk across the sand. No one had told me how hard this would be, how the sand granules clung to one another in clumps, how every step left a reservoir for the incoming tide, how they truly were deep enough to drown someone, just as we did many years ago…
Vivid description here too, Antonia - especially the 'newborn foam' . Bittersweet in mood.
DeleteVivid and memorable, as I grew up on a beach. Loved the descriptions and the emotional tone.
Deleteand here is The Mad Italian's comment this week -
ReplyDeleteThe Mad Italian
Is anyone going to be strong enough in your parliament to stop the investigations into what does not really matter, the parties, as no doubt decisions were bound to have been made over beer and cakes, valuable ones. The problem for your male government members is lace clad women do still tend to redirect your attention. You seem incapable of watching the tidal flow and going in the opposite direction. all I see in your headlines right now is more and more shocking ‘revelations’ for which read ‘everyone knew about it and no one talked about it…’
Too many just following along.
DeleteAs ever, applause for your spot-on use of prompt words.
Delete