Wordzzle Saturday 66

This Week's Ten Word Challenge was: swashbuckler, heads-up, dry martini, recovery, jungle gym, whiskers, bathing suit, spade, circular reasoning, abrasive

I had decided I didn't want the whiskers to belong to a cat, and didn't want any one-eyed sword-fighting pirates or anyone drinking the dry martini. ;) For the Wordzzle guidelines, and the words for next Saturday (if you wanted to try it yourself) go on over to Raven's blog. Thanks for hosting this Raven, it's been fun!



My fifteen year old son, Scott, came backing around the corner into the living room from the kitchen, brandishing a butter knife like a swashbuckler, and wearing nothing but his bathing suit. Rowf, our golden retriever, pranced right behind him, with his favorite throwing stick (the wooden handle from an old backpacking spade) in his mouth. I watched quietly from my recliner, realizing neither of the two knew I was observing their silliness.

I also knew that if I didn't stop the horseplay, something would probably end up broken, but in a weird kind of circular reasoning I was too glad to see his goofiness to want to put a stop to it. These last two years, my son's behavior had changed from a happy-go-lucky kid into an abrasive, mouthy teen. Having a conversation with him was like playing tag on a twisted jungle gym. If I were climbing up, then he'd be maneuvering away from me down the other side.

Now, with a 15 year old's bravado, he was dancing with his reflection in the sliding glass door, holding an empty cocktail glass from the bar in his hand. He tilted his head and admiringly stroked the four whiskers that had recently sprouted from his chin. I figured I'd better give him a heads-up before he did anything to embarrass himself further.

"Scott," I said quietly, getting up from my chair, "What are you doing?"
He jumped, spun around, and dropped the cocktail glass, narrowly missing the dog, but making a quick recovery.
"Nothing, Mom, I promise, there was nothing in it!"
"Why were you holding an empty martini glass?"
"Um... because it was a dry martini?
I laughed and gave him a quick hug while he was caught off-guard. Wonders never cease, he hugged me back.

Wordzzle Saturday

I'm trying the Wordzzle challenge from Raven's blog again. :)

The words for this week's ten word challenge: parasite, meals on wheels, crows, it's my fault, everything but the kitchen sink, on sale, patriotism, the love of my life, library card, common sense

I never wanted to be a parasite on society, but here I am, one tired, dependent old lady. I don't get out anymore, so the high points of my day are visits from people society pays to come. Our mailman arrives before noon, with his circulars, junk mail and bills. The bookmobile, every Tuesday, enticing us with a bus full of large print to check out with our moth-eaten library cards. At least it isn’t just me. Every day, the three of us old widow-women are waiting outside on our front porches, like crows in a row on the telephone wire, wrapped up in our sweaters against the nip in the autumn air. You’d think we’d have the common sense to wait inside where it's warm, but no, we’ve become slaves to our routines. Each of us has our quirks.

I pick up my binoculars and turn to the left. Ellen’s front porch looks like it holds everything but the kitchen sink. She often has carloads of tourists stop and ask if things hanging there are on sale. Wind chimes and mobiles dangle from every crosspiece or beam. She finished one made of old silverware yesterday, and now tiny pickle forks clank dissonantly against the butter knives and spoons. Ellen doesn’t like my binoculars, she says I am a nosy old spy. I wave, but she doesn’t wave back.

As loud as I can, I call over to Mildred, next door on the right. She's a little deaf, but too vain for hearing aids. “New flag, Millie?” Her husband was a Navy veteran, and she kept both her flagpole and her patriotism, even though he's gone. Today she glares and turns her back to me. I had the love of my life a full ten years longer than she had her husband, and she resents me for it. Not that it’s my fault, you understand. I hadn’t held my Larry’s hand as we walked past her porch to make her jealous, but because those last few years, cataracts made him feel more secure if he held on to me when we shuffled round the block. This morning, I shrug my shoulders at her rebuff, because I know in ten minutes, she’ll forget. Millie doesn't remember things so good anymore.

Here comes the Meals on Wheels volunteer, driving her van around the corner, loaded with those pre-packaged dinners. She had the gall to try to get us to eat our meals together, once, but Millie and Ellen refused. I drag my walker closer, and smile. I like the Meals on Wheels lady. She talks to me.