Find Familiars 7 ~ Trying to use up the Words

I still have these words left over from Wednesday's words:
Party
Note
Faucet
Jelly
Leather
Books

and then the infamous Bellowcat from last Wednesday. Let me see if I can end the story with these words.

I continue my story from previous chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6.

Back to Trausti and his talk on Familiars:

"Also," Trausti continued, "not all Familiars are nice." He whistled another tune, and a very big bat flew in through the window and landed on the table and rubbed it's big, gargoyle-like head on Trausti's gloved hand. It was almost a third of Trausti's size, and so ugly that it was almost cute. Most of the apprentices could not help laughing.
"This male hammer headed bat comes from Africa," he said. "How it ended up here, I have no idea. I fetched it in a big banana crate in a supermarket, where it scared the man opening up the crate. A logical place for it to hide, as it's a fruit eater, living mainly from figs, mangoes and bananas." He looked at the apprentices, who were most of them studying the creature with interest. "The downsides? I can see you think. Apart from the size and the claws to fit this size, they are nocturnal and extremely noisy during their active period. And here we have another uncouth specimen. A giant cat-like creature approached Trausti, rubbing its head against his trousered leg. Suddenly the cat began breathing rapidly, panting like a bellows and expanding. Then it opened its maw, a gigantic, pink abyss. It raised its head, and Trausti quickly drew his wand, pointed it at the now enormously swollen cat and screamed: "haltu kjafti!"
Thora looked at him in disgust: "That's not a nice spell to use in front of the apprentices! Was that really necessary?"
Trausti looked squarely at her: "That was a Bellowcat. A few seconds more and we would all have been deaf. I thought she was a Sweller, she has never bellowed before." Trausti bent and examined the flaccid cat. He blanched, stood up and continued: "Any questions?"

There were a few, mostly variations of Will we ever get a Familiar, and What are Bellowcats and Swellers.
After listening to their questions, Trausti answered:
"Will you ever get a Familiar? Only time will tell. Once you're a true witch or wizard, you can begin looking for one. Or more possible the Familiar will find you. I think this is one of the subjects Gylfi has in mind for next year's curriculum." He looked at Gylfi, who nodded.
"Then to Swellers and Bellowcats. Bellowcats are an under-species of Swellers, at least that's what I have found out from studies. Swellers are cats that can increase their size by inhaling air, then they can soar by letting out the air slowly. They kind of fly, like a balloon where you let out the air. They are fun, and it can be a great help for the cat to get somewhere they cannot climb. They are able to steer, partly using their tail, partly by controlling the outlet of air. It takes training for a Sweller to become good at it. It is not a practical thing inside a house, notwithstanding any cat's natural ability to not break or turn over any object, and always land on their paws, flying cats are not a thing to bring into your living room. Bellowcats are a subspecies. They breath in the air rhythmically, like bellows, like what you saw earlier, instead of the steadier intake of Swellers. And instead of using the airflow for flying, they let out the air in one, big MEOW, loud enough to make anybody at close quarters deaf, break the window panes and any other glass nearby, and sometimes even killing the bellowcat himself. Normally Bellowcats are male and Swellers female, although male Swellers are sometimes found. They can interbreed with normal cats of any species, fortunately they generally limit themselves to housecats - fortunately for the world at large. Just imagine a lion-sized, or even a panther sized Bellowcat.

The apprentices left, discussing Familiars and strange cats in small groups. Susan went out in the dark evening with Heidi, Lis and Tage, it was crisp and cold, with a hint of snow in the air. "I forgot my notebook," Susan said, "wait for me please, it'll only be a second." She ran back into the Barn, and overheard Gylfi's, "... but it's male!" before he fell quiet. Susan excused herself, grasped the notebook and hurried back to her friends.

Curiouser and curiouser ... maybe to be continued.
You might say I used Note and Book
else I only got rid of Bellowcat
let's see what happens tomorrow.
 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
* This means shut up, but its very rude, more like shut the bloody F... up!

Words for Wednesday :: Find Familiars 5

Sort
Pollution
Crooked
Learned
Wanting
Industry
    And/or
Education
Colour
Withdraw
Coach
Bellow
Cat
    Yes Bellow and Cat were meant as two words ... I might give Bellowcat a try 😉

I continue my story from previous chapters 1, 2, 3, and 4

Susan got her problems sorted out before dinner. Dressed in a fresh tunic and skirt, she ate with the other Danes, Trausti sat with the Icelanders, enjoying the food and speaking freely with everybody. The only pollution to the good atmosphere was David's crooked friend. Susan had learned by trial and error which subjects to avoid, and so had most of the other apprentices, only the Norwegian Terje, who was a bit wanting in attention, could now and then spark an uncouth discussion over the plates.

When everybody was done eating, Jon rang the bell and asked the apprentices to re-arrange benches and tables so that everyone could sit facing the balcony in the western end of the Barn. Soon the barn was a hive of industry and magic, and chaos reigned for a short while, Then the last of the tables softly landed on its legs in front of the benches, guided by Selma's steady wand.

Gilvi stood up and walked to the free space under the balcony:"Dear fellow wizards, dear apprentices, and dear guests. Tonight Trausti Traustason will continue our education on the subject of familiars. Would everybody please be seated. The apprentices sit up here in front, at the benches behind the tables. Green," he pointed at the two leftmost benches, which turned a pale green, and continued towards the right he said: "Blue, yellow, purple and red." The benches took on the appropriate colour at his words. "Professors in the next row, on the benches with no tables, and finally our guests in the comfy chairs. Apprentices get your notebooks up and note anything you find interesting. There'll be question time afterwards, so don't fall asleep please." He smiled, as he knew that most of the apprentices really wanted a familiar and were going to listen well. "And with this I withdraw and give the stage to Trausti." He swung his wand and a gentle, golden light lit the area under the balcony and shone unto the tables in front of the apprentices.

Trausti stood still in the light. Then he whistled sharply two times. Then he waited.


And now we wait with Trausti, Susan, and everybody else at the Unicorn Farm, because I was so long writing this that bed time overtook me

Words for Wednesday ~ Finally writing again!

Word for Wednesday is a challenge that was started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable event with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words provided by a number of people.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

In May, David M Gascoigne will supply us with prompts, but they'll appear at  Elephant's Child.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

This Wednesday's prompts:
Villian
Visit
Bone
Stork
Memory  
And/or
 
Imprinted
Human
Kink
Spring
Faithful

As I said some time ago, I have a story to tell, and I fear this might turn into one of my marathon-tales running over weeks and weeks before reaching its end. But I am writing again. I am happy!

Here we go. This is happening in the 3rd year on Unicorn Farm, in the short Shrove holidays - this was a thing in Denmark before the winter holiday in February was a thing, we had several single holidays spread over the year, the King and Queen's birthdays, Shrove Monday, Constitution day, and a bit more days in the Christmas holidays. 

Susan knew a villain when she saw one, and Tristan certainly was one. Ever since Christmas holidays she, Heidi, Tage and Lis had been sure he was a bad one. Helge and the Flower power girls were almost convinced, as were the Swedish bunch. Now he once again had decided to visit Unicorn Farm over the short Fastelavns (Shrovetide) holidays. Susan wanted to get away. She had met a stray dog when arriving - she had needed some fresh air after a long day at school and at home with smoking family visiting, and then the dizzying portal, and had went for a stroll before joining the other apprentices at the Farm.
    She sneaked a bone from the lunch and left. The bleak February sunshine was not exactly warm, rather with a promise of warmth to come, She walked along the dirt road engrossed in her own thoughts. Suddenly a big bird flew up. Was that a stork? Susan thought. No, no way, It's far too early. The storks only arrive in April. It must have been a heron or a crane ... bugger I always mix them up, the straight necked one. A crane Susan decided. Or maybe a swan. Swans, black swans ... they existed only two places in Denmark, she was told. In the moat around Castle Kronborg in Elsinore, she has seen these several times when crossing the castle grounds on her way to the beach. She still cherished the memory of one of the swans chasing off a fox one early morning. It had probably seen the cygnets as a quick breakfast, but it had not taken an angry mother swan into consideration. I had been one of the white ones, though. Black swans did not breed in Denmark.

She arrived at the small clump of trees where she had seen the stray yesterday. It had been OK, Susan had made sure of that using her animal skills, just wanting to be left alone. Susan though that it might be more sociable and hungry, today. She called for the dog, first with words, and then with her mind, but no dog came running towards her. Wondering Susan walked into the thicket. She found the place where the dog had slept, a shallow indentation,where the downtrodden grass still formed a nest-like structure, but it was quite cold. It had been dry for weeks and there was almost no chance of tracks, but Susan looked anyway. And yes, in the grass leading away from her she found what could me a path. She slowly walked along it, careful to keep to the undisturbed grass, looking at the ground. Her patience was rewarded with an imprint of a dog's paws where the thicket gave way to fields. Clear and sharp prints, not old. From here it was easy, the plowed fields was like an open book. She saw the dog chase, but never catch rabbits, looping back towards the thicket, remaking its mind, instead walking slowly - seen by the closer together paw prints - towards the short row of houses lining the road away from the water. Maybe they had been cooking something nice. Then she saw something she had not expected. Human footprints. Coming from the houses, standing still, meeting with the paw-prints, and then both set of prints walking away together, direction houses. This did not tally with the impression, Susan had gotten from the dog yesterday. "Leave me alone," it had told her. "I am weary, old and sad. I need time, time alone. Leave me, please."
A kink in the straight line of tracks, made Susan return to the barren fields. The sun, never high in the sky, was now nearing the horizon. At six she had to be back at the Farm. Three quarters of an hour left, her wristwatch told her. No time for dawdling.  She followed the traces onwards, now making a beeline for the small blue house placed a little distance from the others at the end of the row.
She walked onto the road, the field was cloggy, tiring to walk in, and she had seen what she needed to know where the dog was. Had the man kidnapped the dog? She had to know. It had seemed so listless, so sad yesterday. It should not end it's day as someone's plaything, or even worse one one of the places, Susan had heard of where they tested make up, drugs and medicine on animals. Susan was not sure the latter was true, she suspected her classmates once again were trying to pull her leg, but nonetheless, dogs were kidnapped now and then.
Walking on the road soon gave her steps back their spring, and she made good time getting to the blue house.

Behind the blue house, a small shed could be seen. This would be the perfect place to hide a dog. Susan passed the house and walked a bit further along before she sat down on a stone pulling off one shoe, as if to get rid of a stone. She cast about for traces of the dog. As she opened up her animal sense, she was almost knocked silly. The blue house had several animal inhabitants - and the dog was in there. In the house proper, not in the shed, along with cats, at least one owl, some amphibians, and rodents.
Susan suddenly knew the house, or at least she knew of the house. She had been here before. Years ago she bought a miniature grandfather clock for her doll's house. The wonder was that it was a real watch, faithfully keeping time ever since. She wondered if the clockmaker still lived there or what had happened.

... to be continued.

Words for Wednesday ~ May 14 & Wordle

Word for Wednesday is a challenge that was started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable event with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words provided by a number of people.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

In May, David M Gascoigne will supply us with prompts, but they'll appear at  Elephant's Child.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

This Wednesday's prompts:
Elbows
Imagine
Canal
Heavily
Population
    and/or
Mocked
Months
Annex
Support
Casino

I am slowly easing back into writing mode and continuing the story of Susan and the magic. I have an idea, only the words were not right. This is a warm-up, a prequel, something to get me into writing Susan's story again.
We're in the third year of Magic education at the Unicorn farm. Easter holiday maybe.
And as is my wont, I used all words in the order they were given.

Susan sat with her elbows propped on the windowsill and stared out into the blue beyond. She tried to imagine how life would be if she was allowed to move in at the Unicorn Farm, have a familiar and be a real witch. Every time she crossed the canal separating the island from the mainland she felt free and happy, and every time she went the other way, her heart was weighed down heavily by worries and speculations.

Thora had told them that witches and wizards made up a greater part of the population than they imagined, and that the Unicorn Farm was going to expand by opening up schools elsewhere as well.
100 apprentices was all the Farm on the island  had room for, even magically enhanced. and the trouble with buying foodstuff and suchlike for a larger amount of professors and apprentices would become insurmountable.

Susan felt mocked by the universe, as Brúnleit flew past the window. She was Thora's familiar, a short eared owl, in Icelandic a kattugla.

Susan's thought went back in time. She recalled when after months of work at an annex at a local hotel, her father had been invited to the opening ceremony attended by local supports and dignitaries. He had brought the whole family along, Mom, Linda and Susan. The most fun part had been the new casino and the bowling alley. But Susan still remembered her misgivings when somebody had mentioned that the annex had necessitated the felling of a small grove where some owls nested. Susan would have liked one of the owls as a pet, but she never told anyone. She was not even allowed a cat or a dog, so an owl would be unthinkable.

Wordle 1.425 4/6
I did bad today, using letter, I knew were not in. Sigh. I forgot my Pen & Paper method, and furthermore today's solution was a word not in my active vocabulary.
⬜⬜🟨🟨⬜
🟩🟩⬜🟨⬜
🟩🟩🟨⬜⬜
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩

Words for Wednesday March 26 :: Bill & Sue and the Seventh Son 4

In March, River is supplying the prompts for Words for Wednesday.

Word for Wednesday is a challenge that was started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable event with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words provided by a number of people.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

This Wednesday's prompts:
'T'was a hot midsummer's eve and a storm was brewing on the horizon

and this pic, from lee

     Continuing the story of Bill, Sue and the man with the chocolate spanner.
     It took me forever writing this bit of the story, and when I had done so, I read Lee's chapter one - where the photo came from, and debated with myself, if I should post it or not. Would she think I stole or copied the plot from her? Newry Island is in the name of the photo, and I simply looked it up before writing.
     Now I post. I did not copy or steal from anywhere. I lived in Elsinore - city of Castle Kronborg (Hamlet) and by the sea - as a child, and we lived, breathed, and ate stories of sailing, flying Dutchmen, Klabautermen, and disasters at sea.

"The truth ..." the man said, still clutching his chocolate spanner in one hand and a mug of Bill's best beer in the other.
"Out with it!" Bill said, surprisingly harsh.
"Oh, OK ... 'T'was a hot midsummer's eve and a storm was brewing on the horizon, I and the rest of the crew from The Merry Mermaid stood on deck and looked out over the sea strewn with islands, somewhere north of Mackay.  The storm, as I said, was on the horizon, and we decided to hurry to Makay. Only the storm decided to hurry in that  direction too." He looked into the fire, shaking.
"It hit us just as the harbour was in sight. I never saw, heard, felt or whatever, anything like it. Water everywhere, below us waves, above us rain, and sometimes we were tossed that much around, that the sea was above and the clouds below. I clutched the mast, together with two or three others, one man stood at the tiller and tried to steer the Merry Mermaid so that the waves did not break over us. He succeeded for a surprisingly long time. He grew tired, I could see him yelling for replacement. I had only very little idea of how to steer a ship, but I tried getting to him - and I would have done so, if not one of the other crewmembers suddenly went mad. He came at me with a tool, much like a big spike. "You bloody landlubber!" he cried at me, "ever since you came aboard we've had nothing but accidents. You're not going to take the tiller. Not if it's the last thing I do!"
"His words became a prophesy fulfilled, for that very minute, the man at the tiller gave up, was washed overboard, and the next wave washed us all off of the boat.
"I was hit over the heat by something large and comparatively soft. Not hard, but hard enough that I was under water  for a while. When I surfaced, I saw only white, breaking waves all around. And a fender from the boat, probably what hit me in the first place. The rope attached to it trailed just within grasp. I threw myself at it, grasped, clung and tied it to my wrist.
He held out his left wrist, where a white scar went all around.
"It saved my life, but almost cost me my hand. I was thrown up at a beach somewhere - it looked like paradise, and when I came to again, I thought I had died - at least until I felt the pain in my wrist,, and my legs, and almost everywhere. It seems I was dragged through a beach beset with shattered remains of a small coral reef and onto that paradisiac beach. I was in hospital, feverish, incoherent for a long time. Only later I learned that I was the only survivor."

"You were lucky," Bill said. His voice still cool and cutting. "Is this your whole story? And why do you need help?"

"The whole story, unless you want all what happened until that day. And I need your help because of the ghosts." the man shuddered and took a big bite out of the chocolate spanner. "Every time I'm near salt water, or just water that in any way has a connection to the sea, they come for me. Out of the water, the whole crew. They are transparent. They walk through me. They make me cold and wet. I can't stand it any longer."

Hoping to continue in a more timely manner

Words for Wednesday ~ March 19 ~ Bill & Sue and the Seventh Son 3

In March, River is supplying the prompts for Words for Wednesday.

Word for Wednesday is a challenge that was started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable event with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words provided by a number of people.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

This Wednesday's prompts:
Herring
Detectives
Beer
Mask
Peaches

I will be continuing my surrealistic story of Sue and Bill As I wrote last Wednesday I still need to get back to normal after these last stressing months. I am slowly starting to knit, sow, weed and so on, but the slightest adversity saps any and all strength. Still, luckily Spring is on its way and I'm SO  thankful that the light is returning!

They stripped the man of his wet gear and carried him to the couch near the blazing fireplace. He moaned and came around. "The spanner," he croaked. "Give me the spanner!"
Sue picked up the rusty spanner from the floor, hefting it and noticing how light it was. The man grasped the spanner with both hands and bit into it. Sue looked at her hands, they were covered in what she thought was rust, but on a closer inspection it turned out to be cocoa powder. It was made from chocolate.
"I still need your help," the man said. "The ghosts are out there tonight. They came after me from the old ship and walked right through me several times all the way here."
"Bugger," Bill said loudly. "We handed back the ghost-hounds only a week ago. We'll need them."

They listened to the man's explanation.
"It's all red herrings," Bill said,
"Are we detectives, or are we not," Sue replied.
"I need a beer," the man said, "Chocolate is fine, and warms your soul, but beer is better."
Bill went into the kitchen while Sue kept the man company, or kept an eye on him, or both. She saw him ogling the Inuit mask on the wall and later look sharply at the small netsuke in the book case, these were strangely made, and resembled tupilak to the unwary.
Bill returned from the kitchen, carrying a deep tray with three glasses of draught beer, some sandwiches, and a tasty dessert made from dried peaches and whipped cream.
They all ate, and then Bill looked sternly at the man: "Now you tell us the truth!"

Hopefully more words to come, thanks River.

A - Z Challenge ~ To Do or Not To Do?Edited

The scedule for the 2025 A-Z Challenge is up:

• The THEME REVEAL (optional bonus hop): March 9-15
• Official Challenge Sign-ups: March 24 to April 5
  Do the A-Z Challenge April 1-30
  
• Reflections (optional bonus hop): May 2-9
• Road-trip (sign up to keep visiting others all year - optional bonus): Opens May 10

It seems that once again there'll be no set topic.

I am still in two minds whether I want to do it or not.

And at the very least Lissa is going to supply us with alternative badges again. Pink is so not my colour.

Words for Wednesday ~ 26 February ~ Bill & Sue and the Seventh Son

The Word for Wednesday challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable event with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words provided by a number of people.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

The prompts for February are provided by Lissa and can be found at her blog.

This week's prompts are:
1 - premonition
2 - onion
3 - temperature
4 - seventh
5 - weirdo

As these words do not quite fit Susan's universe, and I'm not in the mood for longer tales, I'm once again calling in Bill and Sue, my crazy, ghost busting couple for the job. If they can't do it, noone can.

"I have a premonition," Bill said as he was peeling onions for dinner. "Once the temperature has fallen, the seventh son of a seventh son will come and visit us and send us off on some new, weirdo adventures."

"I'll be looking forward to that," Sue said, "life has been too boring ever since we delivered the well trained puppies back."

Poetry Monday :: Fiction

Every Monday is Poetry Monday.

Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings and I have taken over the hosting duties, mostly the supplying of the prompts - only temporarily we hope - while Diane at On the Border is taking a break for health and relaxation, travelling the world with her husband as far as we can tell.
 
We just hope she's going to take back over once she returns home again.

  I have something to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others via the links, would you please leave a comment.
  Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.

Today's prompt is Fiction. This is a thing I would not willingly live without.
My poem is a partial repost from almost five years ago, just carefully improved and updated.

My old partner in crime

I wrote my first fiction some time before school,
Wrote poems of sons and stories of cats.
A decrepit typewriter, ancient as time
Was my friend and my partner in crime.

I once had as homework to tell us a tale
Of ghosts from a place that I knew.
I wrote of a troll, of a church and a hill
Oh, the tale ... I remember it still.

As an end to the story I wrote, as was true:
If I didn't have no books at all
I would write me some books, at a terrible speed.
Just for to have something to read.


 - - - - - - - - - -

January 13: Fiction  (today)
January 20: Sheep
January 27: Silver
February 3: Funky
February 10: Funny
February 17: Fidgety
February 24: Fluffy

Fires at Unicorn Farm ~ Part 3

Encouraged by Elephant's Child I sat myself down and wrote the last of the story. I am a stickler for happy endings, and this shows here.
And as I used my colour Opal Pearl Green throughout this story I'll make it count for Colour24 as well

The magicians and apprentices sat around the table in the barn, all singed, smelling of smoke and damp clothing, but all very happy. The reason for the fires had not been a pyromaniac wizard or witch after all, Taavi told a long-winded story of one pyromaniac who ended up as a very good person, but nobody really listened.
Suddenly Tage raised his head and blurted out: "How did Kalle end up here!" He looked at Taavi, who gave him a stink eye. "Oh, sorry Taavi, I did not mean to interrupt," he added, I was just thinking ..."
"Or not," Taavi said. "Excuse accepted. And you pose a relevant question. Let's ask Kalle once again, what happened?"
"Yes ..." Kalle began. "I was asleep, as well I should be, at home in my own bed in Stockholm. Then I remember dreaming of a giant, shimmering opal green crocolisk eating up someone I did not recognize, wrapped up like a giant spring roll or something. I was afraid. I wondered what to do. Then I felt an almighty pulling sensation ... and I awoke in the middle of the corridor, my PJs on fire and Gilvi dousing me with water."
"You were afraid, and wondered what to do with a giant crocolisk!" Jon said slowly "... I think I know what happened." He looked at all the other magicians and apprentices at the table. "Now think. If you saw a humongous, shimmering green crocolisk - and a man-eating one even, what would you do?"
"Run," Tage said.
"Get mum and dad!" Heidi suggested.
"I'd go to ..." Susan began, then gasped, "... to the library!" she ended softly.
"Exactly!" Jon exclaimed, his white teeth showing in a big smile. "And that's what Kalle did. He sleep'ported here! Well done young man. You will probably have no trouble passing the teleportation test this term."
Kalle smiled a huge smile. "Oh I've been so afraid of flunking that test. All my cousins except for Britta who's the youngest, passed the test last term, and they have been teasing Anna and me relentlessly ever since."
"But I'll have to cast a spell on you to prevent repetitions. Just imagine you trying to slep'port to some imaginary place."
Kalle turned white and whispered: "Oh yes, please do. Even some real life places would not be that nice."

Fires at Unicorn Farm ~ Part 2

On my way home from an errand, I suddenly knew - remembered - how this all ended. Here you are: Part two of the story of the fires at Unicorn Farm.

Gilvi left again and the others sat for long in the barn. The Nisser brought them cakes and hot tea and cocoa, only succeeding in making them all very sleepy. Kalle fell asleep, wrapped in a blanket, and the others dozed fitfully on the benches. They all dreamt vividly. Susan and Heidi woke up and looked at one another.
"The sprites?" Heidi asked.
"Yes," Susan replied, and with this they were off to the adjoining stables.
Kai woke with a start: "Hey Heidi .. and Susan! Stay here, Gilvi said ..." But before he could draw his wand or do anything else to prevent it the two girls had slipped into the stable.
Heidi almost fell up the three steps to the stables, where strange animals and food for all and sundry were being kept. They raced to where they had placed the big glass cage a few days earlier.
The roomy and beautiful glass cage was where they'd left it, but empty, except for a small fire flickering in a dull grey ring in the middle of the cage. The asbestos lattice covering it sat askew.
"They escaped!" Susan exclaimed.
"They sure did," Heidi replied. "Let's go find the twins, quick!"
With this Susan and Heidi ran each in a separate direction, Heidi ran into the Barn, waking up the others, and quickly explained what they had found out before speeding on. Susan took the small staircase leading from the stables to the library. There she met and almost ran into Martine: "It's the flame sprites doing it," she gasped, winded from running up the stairs. "Where's the Kuusisaari's?" "Tähti is in the library," Martine replied, "I think Taavi is downstairs. I'll get him!"
"Please do!" Susan said and ran towards the doors to the library. Smoke was still coming form in there.
"Hello," Tähti gasped through the smoke, "you're not supposed to be here, but please lend me a hand now that you are ... Slökkvid!" she cried as another small fire lit on the carpet.
"It's the fire sprites!" Susan said, "They have escaped." And interrupted by a few extinguishing spells, she quickly told Tähti what they has discovered. "Martine and Heidi are out there looking for Taavi as well."
"I'll find him." Tähti said, "you just stay here and extinguish any and all fires. You're free to use the mundane fire extinguisher on flames not in books - use your head!" And with this she flickered her wand and disappeared.
Sure that now Tähti, Taavi and the other teachers now would take care of the sprites, Susan sat to the task of keeping the books from burning. She soon realized that her magical powers would give out, and grasped the fire extinguisher from the hall. armed with this in her left hand and her wand in her right she kept the flames at bay. She felt more than saw Tue and Heidi coming in to help. Gratefully she concentrated on carpets, curtains and furniture with the extinguisher, leaving the magic to the older two.
Suddenly a keening sound penetrated the building, shaking it and them to their roots. "The Kuusisaari's are calling the Sprites home," Heidi said. "Thank God, I'm exhausted!"
They put out the last of the flames and almost fell into the old sofa. Soon Gilvi's face showed in the doorway: "Good job, all!" he said. "Down to the Barn now, time for a meal and an explanation or two."

... to be continued

Words for Wednesday November 13

The Word for Wednesday challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words are provided by a number of people.
The prompts for November are provided by Alex J. Cavanaugh and can be found @ Elephant's Child.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

The Words for yesterday were:
Snow
Cow
Jade
Candy
Sunglasses
    and/or
Oak
Refreshed
Ornery
Music
Shells

I needed writing, so THANKS! to Alex J. Cavanaugh for the words and to Elephant's Child for posting them.
A small story from Susan's mundane life early winter of the first year on the Farm. These 'telling the time-notes' are as much for my own sake as for you ... I expect maybe even more for my sake. It explains why Susan is not thinking of Snow Magic, and a heap of other things to me.
Remember that Susan's mundane life is roughly autobiographical, so what I here described existed - maybe still do - and I'll have to dig up that story of why. Maybe for next Wednesday?
PS. according to my spell checker Ornery is not a word ;)

Snow was falling, and Susan happily looked into the leaden skies. As soon as the bus arrived, she jumped aboard, happy to get away from the sports hall. She hated sports, running gave her a headache, and all those balls ... Shortly they passed a field with cows, funny that they were still out, maybe the snow had caught the farmer as unaware as herself. All the cows stood close together, with their tails into the wind near the gate. Where did they live, Susan wondered, as every time she went past that field, and why really were there cows here in the suburbs of the town? Houses on either side of the road, going in to town, then to the right suddenly a small clump of trees and a pasture with cows, then a road, and houses again. Mom, or was it Grandma, had told a story some time ago, but Susan did not remember.
She searched inside her school-bag, now where was that bag? That was the only good thing about the sports hall. It had a well assorted kiosk. Today Susan had bought a jade coloured bag of candy. She put a couple in her mouth and savoured the sweet taste. Too soon the ride through winter-wondeland in the heated bus came to an end, and Susan got off. Snow was nice, but cold was not when you were not dressed for it; this very morning her mother had looked for her sunglasses before going off to work, and Susan had decided against the warm coat. She regretted this decision now. She fastened her pace to keep warm, turned left at the big oak tree at the corner and half ran the last long stretch home. She pulled off the thin coat, shook it out and hung it in the back of the wardrobe. Bye, she thought, I won't be needing you before spring. Then she threw shoes, socks, school-bag and hat in a heap, only keeping the candy bag. In the fridge she grabbed a carton of milk, and then a glass and a book. She disappeared into her room, and returned after the milk and candy had all gone and the book had been finished. Thus refreshed she was ready to meet her ornery sister, who as usual played loud music inside her room. Walking on egg shells was sometimes needed when she had one of her moods.

Words for Wednesday October 23

The Word for Wednesday challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words are provided by a number of people.
The prompts for September are provided by Sean Jeating and can be found @ Elephant's Child.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

- - A - - B - - C - - 

Due to an error we have two week's worth of words this time. The Words from last Wednesday were:
Funeral,
Moon,
Splendiferously,
Sun,
Coffin,
     and/or
Afraid,
Biased,
Crows,
Nutrition,
Worms

And then this week's words:
 
Art,
Awe,
Love,
Moonlit,
Sleeping
      and/or
 beauty,
Breathless,
Dreamscape, 
Face,
Oxygen

I am trying to gather up the shattered threads of Susan's story. Long ago I wrote a chapter which ended up with one of the professors, Marie-Louise, called M-L, dying. The words lend themselves to a description of her funeral - I did not use oxygen, and also I did not use the words in any order this time, I mixed them up well and good.

As I do not pull down my old blog posts, the early drafts of this chapter are still online here and here.
If you look there, you'll notice it's Torben dying. This is a mistake, as he was always my villain, and I use him as such in the very next chapter; on the other hand I always had troubles using M-L for anything - she was my sore thumb - so in my book (only offline) I killed her off instead.

Splendiferously was not a word Susan had ever thought of in connexion with a funeral, but then again she had never been to a witch's burial ever before. They had all gathered beneath the setting moon in the early dawn and the four oldest professors from Unicorn Farm had carried the coffin together with M-L's parents, all dressed in black robes.
Susan was not afraid of graveyards, she often used the big one in her hometown as either a short cut or a place for silence and thoughts. People telling tales of ghosts and spooky happenings were in Susan's mind biased, having watched too many movies on scary, creepy crows and whatnot in the graveyards. In reality the name Tranquil Gardens suited perfectly, and she hoped, maybe morbidly, to have just as great a funeral when the time came to give her body as nutrition to the worms.

The six black-clad magicians carried the coffin from the still moonlit hearse into the church. There the coffin was opened, and M-L lay as if she was sleeping, her face serene, an awe inspiring work of art and love after her violent demise.
When everybody was seated, the lid was put back in place, the candles were lit, the organ played and the magicians sang a hymn of intricate patterns and harmonies. The beauty and solemnity left Susan breathless. After a short, formal and very fitting ceremony the coffin was carried out into the new dawn and lowered into the newly opened grave. All gathered around the grave, and after the priest had sprinkled grave and coffin with holy water, the heaped up earth flew down the grave, packing itself around and gently covering the coffin, leaving a dreamscape of flowers and patterned sands glowing in the gentle morning sun.

Words for Wednesday :: part 2 or 3 or maybe 4 :: Gylfi & Thora 11

This last Wednesday I came up with the Words for Words for Wednesday. I wrote a whiney weather post, using the Words, but they also fit in with my continuing story of Gylfi and Thora. As usual I am
using the words in the order they were given

Here they are:

Agile
Bleak
Comfort
Dull
Even
Full
     and/or
This photo from Spencer Gurley, courtesy of Pexels

I continue the story from where I let off last Monday - I seem to be late in using the words in July - well here it is still Friday a few minutes more at least

-- 👀 --

Gylfi entered the room just as Thora hung up. "Who was it?" he asked letting down the catch of the day in the sink.

"The Fins," Thora replied. "They are on their way to Turku, and are going to brave the portals on their own."
"Fine, I have something I want to test," Gylfi said. "Would you mind preparing the fish, while I get them. What a luck I did not stop when I had enough for the two of us. I'll be hungry when we return."

"What mischief have you planned now!" Thora asked.

"Teleporting," Gylfi answered. "I have been practising every day, sometimes even more times a day. And I can teleport with the neighbour's cow for short distances."
Thora began laughing, "That's why Starri's Hildur has been complaining that her cow gives less milk recently. I overheard her at the bakers'." she turned serious: "But teleporting is dangerous."

"As I said, I have been practising, and I think I'm just naturally good at it. It's easy, and it does not make me dizzy or tired as portals and other kinds of magic does."

"You're a strange one, Gylfi," Thora said lovingly, "I'll take care of fish and whatever, just drink up your tea, have a few more cookies, and remember to bring some along when you go and get the Finnish twins, these caves are not a place for prolonged stays."

Gylfi smiled at Thora while he ate the last of yet another cookie, then he wrapped some in a napkin and stuffed in his pockets. He rose: "Thank you. I promise to take care, and only take one of them at a time. No need to hurry and risk our future teachers."

"Great, I look forward to seeing you, and them, home again."
Shortly after she heard the roar of Gylfi's old car and began scaling the fish.

Gylfi arrived at the end of the bumpy road near the farm before darkness fell. He parked the car well away from the farmhouse and with agile steps climbed the nearest mound. Yes, he could see the cave from there, he looked around, painting an inner picture of his surroundings. The glacier looked bleak in the van evening light. He had to hurry. He pulled out his wand, looked at the distant glacier and cast the spell.

He stood at the entrance to the cave.
He entered the cave, and when he no longer could see the road, and thus also was not visible from outside, he pulled his staff and with a softspoken Ljús and a swish it emitted a clear, golden light. He took comfort in the fact that he knew where he was going this time around. Caves were one of his weaknesses, never admitted to anybody, but he felt the pressure of the masses of stone and earth and ice on top of him almost like a physical pressure.

A gleam of dull blue told him that Taavi had lit his wand as well and was near the little portal in the back of the cave. He called, and even this small sound filled up the cave with warmth and life - and bats. Gylfi ducked, as the bats flew over his head and out into the new night.

He turned his light up to full and walked briskly over to the twins. The cave was unusually dry and it was easy gong. They greeted one another and the twins gladly accepted a couple of Thora's cookies.

Words for Wednesday :: Thora & Gylfi 10

Finally I got myself pried away from gardening, Tour de France and other chores and projects and finished the next chapter in my continuing story of Thora and Gylfi. The Words were:

Fish
Kettle
Black
Human
Cloister
Serene
     And/or
Flagstone
Quarry
Bush
Rowan
Finnish
Mango

I continue where I left off, using the words in the order they were given as usual - only not mango. It did not fit in.

 Some days later, Gylfi was out fishing. He did not use any magic, but still he caught enough fish for dinner and some more, he gutted them and returned home.
Thora had been working in the garden, tending the early greens and encouraging them to grow, at the same time discouraging the aphids and other pests from eating their edibles and instead eating those that Thora and Gylfi regarded as weeds. She picked some early greens and flowers and herbs. Potatoes were still to be had in the root cellar, as were various cabbages and other roots. Soon the potatoes were simmering, and the other greens cleaned and cut. She buttered a huge pan and spread the roots and greens in it. Then she filled the herbs and spices in a glass, cut them with her scissors and added salt. This she would sprinkle over the fish before consigning them to the oven. She also filled the kettle with fresh water; black tea to warm them both after a day spent in the still cool Icelandic spring was a luxury they did not want to do without, they were human after all, and the warmth spell demanded much mental energy to maintain.  

While she waited for Gylfi to return home, she said her evening devotions. She looked at the photo of the cloister from the former Carmelite monastery in Elsinore. That place exuded a serene, almost holy atmosphere even from the old black and white photo. She wanted to go there again soon. The flagstones in the photo caught her eyes. A legend told that if you stayed in the cloister on a night where the moon was full, Kirstin Munk, the morganatic wife of king Christian IV, was supposed to appear where the light of the full moon fell on a certain flagstone.
Thora did not believe this to be true. But the old monastery held a fascination to her. She was awakened from her wool-gatherings by her owl, Brúnleit, that landed on the window sill with a small bird in it's sharp claws. Thora rose, and gently asked Brúnleit to let go of her quarry.
Protesting, but knowing that Thora was the master, the owl let go of the still fighting bird. Thora held it carefully and examined it with eyes and magic. Miraculously it had only a few punctures to the skin, nothing internal was damaged, only squeezed a bit. Thora gently placed the small bird in a bush under a huge rowan tree and put a protecting spell on it. The spell would wear off, but now it stood a chance.
Thora gave Brúnleit one of the savoury biscuits she kept for this purpose, and told her not to bring birds into the house. "If you must catch birds, eat them before you come here," she said sternly. The owl hooted softly and flew off to the rowan tree to sulk and eat her biscuit. Thora laughed to herself. She suspected the owl of deliberately bringing in an unharmed bird now and then to get the treats.
The phone rang, and as Thora picked it up and said: "Hello, Thora speaking," a lot of statics and a jumble of words followed. For a second Thora was about to hang up, then she recognised Taavi's voice and the Finnish word for hello. She quickly pulled out her wand and cast the language spell, hoping it would work through the telephone as well. It did, and Taavi told Thora that he and Tähti were on their way to the portal in Turku.

"Great," Thora said. "Have you decided to brave the portals alone?"
---
"Yes, fine! Just wait in the cave and I or Gylfi will be there -- See you! - Bye."

... to be continued

Words for Wednesday April 3 & IWSG

This challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words are provided by a number of people.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrive on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

-- 🏅 --

The Words for the Wednesdays in April are provided by Elephant's Child.

For today we had:

Wife,
Comfort,
Time,
Book,
Doors
     And/or
 Certificate,
Appreciation,
Elephant,
Olive,
Major

I did not have much time for writing today, this everyday prose is what happened:

  Being a wife to my husband is a great comfort. We take time together to talk of books we have read, we repair and paint the doors together, and loads of other things. Recently we dug the beds in the garden, a good thing, as rain and even snow is foreseen for the most of the coming fortnight.
  We need no medals or certificate to show the appreciation of one for the other. There's no elephant in the room, only hubby oft-times teases me with my dislike for olives in any form; which sure is not a major issue, neither the teasing, nor the dislike.

 - - - - - -

Today is also the first Wednesday of the month. Time for the monthly Question from the Insecure Writers' Support Group

April  3rd question: How long have you been blogging? (Or on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram?) What do you like about it and how has it changed?

My answer: I have been blogging since January 30th 2012 - that is more that 12 years now. I almost always forget to celebrate my blogoversary; even installing a countdown timer on my blog did not help.

I like the slow pace of blogging and the possibility of writing long posts interspersed with photos. I like that the posts stay, that I and everybody else can go back, see how it all began, what happened years ago, and how the kids have grown.

Of course I tried my hand at Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and so on. But I do not like the fast pace, that the reels do not stay, so that I have to check everybody every day if I do not want to miss out. Facebook was more 'slow' in the beginning, and IG too - Twitter was always another soup, fast-paced, meant for quick messages and replies. Nothing cut in stone there. 

I feel sorry that blogging seems to have fallen out of fashion, I see too many blogs just stopping in the middle of a story, and if I search, I mostly find the authors alive and kicking at FB or IG.

When I began blogging, great communities existed, with groups like Moms of Many, or homeschooling or gardening circles; and lots of challenges, literary, photographic, writing, drawing, Monday Memes and so on.
  Now it seems that community is old-fashioned, what counts is likes and followers. Most of the challenges are now mainly - or indeed exclusively - happening on SoMe.  It's as if the people hosting and participating in these challenges have given in to the swiftly flowing river of infotainment. We have no longer time for the reading of long posts; heck even writing a comment is too much when you can't just throw a like.

I know this is a bit barking up the wrong tree, as exactly IWSG is still keeping the flags flying, but I feel fairly frustrated these days.

Words for Wednesday March 6 & IWSG

This challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words provided by a number of people.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

-- 🌊 --

The Words for the Wednesdays in Mach are provided by River, who has decided to use fewer words in the hope that more people might be tempted to join us.

1. poised
2. reef
3. crashing
4. bridge
5. wrecked
6. turquoise
7. glitter

As usual I wrote a small piece of Susan's story, as usual I used the words in the order they were given, as usual the story is too short, and as usual it is a continuation of last Wednesday's story.


The Green team was gathered in their school room and Thora was poised on the edge of a chair. Now Susan knew that a spell held her suspended, and was not afraid that she was going to topple like that frst day.
Thora spoke: "A part of our magical creatures of the sea here are in danger. We had counted on the reef to keep out the worst of the winter storms, but some of it seems to have given way under the crashing waves.
This forms so to say a bridge from the sheltered waters of the inlet out into the open sea."
She turned to the wall and pictures rose as she spoke on: "When the reef was wrecked, some of the sea horses and riverbeasts escaped." Pictures of both arose from her hands. The sea horses looking just like the statues Susan had seen in Rome, horses in front and aquatic beasts behind. The riverbeasts looked like a cross between an armadillo and a hippopotamus, but with turquoise bellies and glittering scales. They were pretty, half as big as a sea horse, and Susan could not help calling for them in her mind.
Thora sent her a sharp look and Susan concentrated on the pictures from Thora's hands and listened to her words.
"We'll have to go out there in the cold today. We'll work in shifts, short ones, so that none of you overstretches your snow magic. We'll split up too, Gilvi, ML and Jon will be tackling the Seahorses, while we are to catch the shy Riverbeasts."
She let the picture of the Sea horse fade while the riverbeast grew larger and more distinct. "Riverbeasts are likeable creatures, but totally unused to human beings. They are shy and fast moving. The best way to make them follow you is to call them to you." She looked at Susan once again. "This is our special ability as green magicians, the ability to call creatures to us, as well you know. But you also need their Name, and in Icelandic Riverbeast is Árdýr!"

 - - - - - -

Today is also the first Wednesday of the month. Time for the monthly Question from the Insecure Writers' Support Group

March 6th question: Have you "played" with AI to write those nasty synopses, or do you refuse to go that route? How do you feel about AI's impact on creative writing?

My answer: I tried AI for both synopses (which I btw. do not find nasty), structuring of a text, and I even asked it to write one of my Words for Wednesday posts for me.
I asked: Write me a story about some students of magic. You'll have to use these words: Rusk, Spindrift, Troubadour, Killick, Mantra, Tuckamore, Whirlpool, Catamaran.

Down below you can read the result, and HERE is a link to the story I wrote, as I was not satisfied with the AI's story al all.
I find the AI's story generic, two-dimensional, and sterile. I get no kick whatsoever from reading it.
The AI did even not perform as requested, as it did not use all the Words.

For these reasons I think AI is not a substitute for creative writing, for translations or for any other art form concerning languages for a long time to come.
But for structuring a PowerPoint show,  a text, or a lecture, and any such "non-creative creative tasks" AI can be quite helpful.

- - - - - ? 💻 +💡? - - - - -

A story about students of magic - According to an AI.

Once upon a time, there were three magic students called Anna, Ben and Clara. They were all friends and went to the same school of magic. One day they went on a boat trip out to sea when they suddenly saw something mysterious in the water. It was a large piece of spindrift that looked like a small island.
    Anna, Ben and Clara were curious to see what it was, so they rowed their boat to it. When they got close, they saw that there was a troubadour sitting on top of the sea foam. The troubadour was an old man with long white hair and a long white beard. He was dressed in a colourful suit and he was playing a guitar.
    Anna, Ben and Clara got out of their boat and walked up to the troubadour. They said hello to him and he smiled at them.
    "Hello," he said. "What can I do for you?"
    "We were just curious to see what you were," Anna said.
    "I'm a troubadour," the man said. "I travel around and sing for people."
    "It's a beautiful place you've chosen to live," Ben said.
    "Yes, it is," said the troubadour. "I like the peace and quiet here."
    "Can we hear you sing?" Clara asked.
    "Of course," said the troubadour.
    He picked up his guitar and started playing. He sang a song about a young man travelling to find the love of his life. His voice was soft and melodic and his song was beautiful.
    Anna, Ben and Clara listened with their mouths open. They were enthralled by the troubadour's singing. When he finished, they applauded.
    "That was a beautiful song," Anna said.
    "Thank you," said the troubadour. "I'm glad you liked it."
    "Can you teach us how to play the guitar?" Ben asked.
    "Of course," said the troubadour. "I'd love to teach you."
    The troubadour taught Anna, Ben and Clara how to play the guitar. They practised for hours and soon they could play simple melodies.
    One day, while they were practising, something strange happened. A whirlpool appeared in the water next to them. The vortex was so strong that it started to suck their boat in.
    "Help!" Anna shouted.
    The troubadour grabbed their boat and started rowing towards shore. But it was too late. The whirlpool was too strong. It sucked their boat in and carried it out to sea.
    Anna, Ben and Clara were scared. They didn't know what to do. But then they remembered what the minstrel had taught them. They began to sing the song he had sung to them.
    "A young man travelled to find the love of his life," they sang. "He travelled far and wide, but he never found her."
    As they sang, the whirlpool began to fade. It got weaker and weaker until it finally disappeared completely.
    Anna, Ben and Clara were happy. They were happy that they had been rescued and they were happy that they had learnt to play the guitar.
    They said goodbye to the troubadour and rowed their boat back to shore. They were now better magical students and they had a new friend.

Words for Wednesday ~ February 28

This challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words provided by a number of people.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

-- 🫖 --

The prompts for this last Wednesday in February are provided by Lissa, and made public at her blog.

For today we had these words:
Tomorrow
Coffee
Direction
Echo
Sunshine

I continue from HERE. Initially I would have written more about the Sunday breakfast - as more people asked about it - but I ran out of steam on my way there.

"Live like there's no tomorrow ..." Susan read aloud as she cut off the thread from Heidi's sweater, "... That sounds like a very bad plan, I think. Why are those magazines always so  ... contradictory or watyamacallit? Diets and then four pages further on they have tempting recipes for cakes and pies. Strange one-liners like that one and an article on planning your summer holidays with no stress. I do not really get it."

"Neither do I," Heidi said, "but I get one thing. I can smell mom's coffee so breakfast will be ready very soon. Are you done with the sweater?"
"Yes, I'm done," Susan answered, holding up the sweater. "The mending is almost invisible, and after a wash it will be."
 "Fabulous! Thanks a load!" Heidi said and pulled on the sweater. "If you never make it as a witch, you can open a mend and repair-shop."
Susan was about to become mad, but then she looked at Heidi's face, and realized that Heidi actually meant what she said and was not teasing. Before she could find an answer, Sandra called from downstairs, and the two apprentice witches set off direction kitchen.
They met Tage and Lis at the stairs, still sleepy eyed, but more than ready for one of their mom's Sunday breakfasts. 

The kitchen was filled with delicious smells, coffee, waffles, scrambled eggs, home-made buns, jams and honey all vied for their attention.

They ate until they could not eat any more, and then the kitchen echoed with their thanks and praises, as the four apprentices ran out into the frosty sunshine on their way to lessons at the Unicorn Farm.

Words for Wednesday :: February 14th

Uh-oh, I'm terribly late, but today the sun is shining, Yippie, and I feel better than the meh! I've been feeling lately from the cold. I had my yummy tea and breakfast, and woo, writing happened.

Now I already used all of the Words given us by Lissa which are:
1. meh
2. woo
3. yum
4. uh-oh
5. yippee

But I won't cheat you out of the story I actually wrote for today. A long time ago - back in March 2019 - I began writing of a weekend filled with Snow Magic (or you can read the whole chapter here). That is, all I ever got to write was Friday evening and most of Saturday. The beginning of Sunday is here, and I hope for more to come. As I've said a few times before -- maybe a hundred or thereabout -- I'm good at beginning, but no as good with endings. Here's to hoping.

Susan woke up in the semi dark even before the alarm clock rang with a happy feeling. Today was Sunday, she was at the Magician's house at Unicorn isle. The weather was still meh, but today she knew better than to agonize and worry over this, Tage and Lis would see them safely to the Unicorn farm via a teleport. Woo, they would not have to fight their way through the snowdrifts with the heavy sleet biting their cheeks.
Quickly she dressed in the cold, awakening Heidi in her bed near the window. "Morning, Susan," she whispered.
"Morning, Heidi," Susan whispered back. "What time is it?"
"Only half past seven," Heidi answered sleepily. "Time to dress an so on before mom's breakfast is ready."
"Yum," Susan said. "I love your mum's breakfast."
"It's even better on Sundays," Heidi replied,  "just you wait and see." She rose and stretched and began dressing. Uh-oh," she exclaimed, There's a hole in my sweater. Old aunt Margit knit it for me, and  I really like it. Bugger, Mom will be sad as well."
"If your Aunt Margit knit it for you, I'm sure she knew you," Susan said with a teasing smile, " ... and if, I'm sure there's a small ball of yarn somewhere for repairs."
"There is," Heidi admitted, it is in my sewing basket, but I'm not good at repairs."
"I am," Susan said. "Sewing, that is mostly repairing holes and zippers, are the only textile skills I'm good at. My knitting is terrible, and my crocheting worse. I drove my teacher and a class mate to despair trying to teach me granny squares. I ended up having woodworking with the boys! But I see the meaning in good repairs. Hand me the thread and a needle. I'll get it done before breakfast."
Yippie! You're a hero, Susan. Here, catch!"  Heidi threw the sweater at Susan.

Words for Wednesday ~ January 10

This challenge started a long time ago. Now it has turned into a movable feast with Elephant's Child as our coordinator; and the Words provided by a number of people.

The general idea of this challenge is to make us write. Poems, stories, subtitles, tales, jokes, haiku, crosswords, puns, ... you're the boss.
Use all Words, some Words, one Word, or even none of them if that makes your creative juices flow. Anything goes, only please nothing rude or vulgar.

 It is also a challenge, where the old saying "The more the merrier" holds true.

So Please, remember to follow the links, go back and read other peoples' stories. And please leave a comment after reading. Challenges like this one thrives on interaction, feedback and encouragement. And we ALL need encouragement.

-- ☸ --

The prompts for every Wednesday in January are provided by Elephant's Child, and made public at her blog.

For today we had these words:

Memories
Thanks
Running
Grave
Collected
    And/or
Clover
Regrets
Marvellous
Enchanted
Clock

I continue my tale of the apprentices, the strange locket from a sea monster and an old sailor.
As usual I use all Words in the order they were given.

Fiona and Veronika were given the job of trying to pick the old sailor's memories. Thanks to their daddy bringing some beer and asking the crowd in the meadow where the nets were hung from poles for drying, cleaning and mending, they found out that the old sailor was sick at home. They bought some flowers, and as a second thought some frozen soup and went visiting. He was in bed with a bad cough, and Fiona pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat down. Meanwhile Veronika had the water running, scrubbed sink and pots and had the soup boiling in a very short time.

The old sailor sat propped by pillows while Veronika fed him spoonfuls of the hot soup and good bread.

He slept for a short while, and then woke, lucid and ready to tell his tale.
"It was a dark and stormy night," he began, making the sisters smile. "We had to anchor up out of the harbour, near the wood with all them windblown trees. We took the lifeboat, more like a big dinghy, to the shore, as captain was certain the boat would capsize before the night was over, but it did not, it was a good boat, the old Cormorant. The winds were cold and blowing the sea-spray at us, so we walked. We thought it was far, as we sailors do not like walking. Somewhere along the way we found an old grave, weathered and worn, but fear inducing to the superstitious crew. One of the men collected pebbles from the grave, and put some on the tombstone and some in his pockets. We walked, stumbled on through the stunted forest and in the end we saw the light of a small door or window from afar. We followed it and came to an inn. It was surrounded by a garden, the strangest garden I ever say. Patches of clover grew around it, all filled up with four leaf clovers. I tried to warn the others, but they were frozen through, as was I and Captain. We spent the night at the Yellow Cormorant. Finding it a good omen that the name of the inn was almost the same as that of our ship. The inn was full, despite its remote placement. We sat down and made merry with the customers.

We paid the bill later, but no regrets," the old sailor said. He dozed off and the girls sat quietly, waiting.

"Where was I?" he asked, when he awoke again.
"At the Yellow Cormorant," Fiona said. " Listening to the tales of the sailors there."
"Oh yes. One of them I remember best of all. He was old as time, maybe he just looked old to us young 'uns back then. White hair, blue eyes, ruddy, weather-beaten face, kind of like carved in wood. He told a tale of a marvellous trip, to an enchanted land, through the maelstrom there. He showed us a coin, pure gold, heavy and big. Later that night he gave it to me for safekeeping. He said that he had seen the Klabautermann and death was coming for him."

The old sailor sank back on his pillows and said: "The old clock still hides my precious treasure." He drew a deep breath brining on yet another attack of coughing and continued in a winded voice: "Now I need to sleep. Your company and soup have don me good. Kind girls please leave me alone."

Fiona kissed the old sailor on the cheek, and they left for home.  

Next day they read in the paper that a neighbour had visited the old sailor in the evening, to feed him again, and that he had died during the night.

... to be continued