’22 A To Z Challenge – K

 

I went looking for sauerkraut, –I don’t know why.  I should be able to smell it – and found a Cabbage-Head instead.

I am sometimes sooo… happy that I am saddled with the simple name of Smith, when I research the meanings of other people’s.

A reader made me aware of surname.com, but it only concentrates on English, Scottish and Irish names.  Bing has become more reliable, offering results from several sites.  One of them often does the job.  I also rely on Google Translate, though it does have its drawbacks.

I recently ran into a new, female blogger, who had married a man by the name of Kohlhepp.  This is a rare German name that I had never run into, here in ex-Berlin, Ontario.  I had to look it up.  The biggest problem with Google Translate, is that it does so literally, word by word, rather than idiomatically, with the meaning of the entire phrase or clause.

When I entered Kohlhepp, I got back cabbagejerk.  Now, does jerk mean a sharp tug, or is he the guy with the big desk in the corner office?  Another rare, local German name is Dreisinger.  I know that it means Three Singers – but which three?  The Magi??  Larry, Shemp and Moe??  A Christian-based name from a church choir??

I may snicker a bit to find that Kohlhepp is a cabbage harvester, but in Germany, that’s an important job.  Somebody gotta make all that sauerkraut.

Here in Canada, we have an up-and-coming Federal politician named Poilievre.  In French, pois are peas, and lievre is a form of ”lever,” which means to lift or raise.  If Tennessee Ernie Ford were still alive, he would Bless his little pea-pickin’ heart.

Twenty Ate Fibbing Friday

Pensitivity101 had a Balderdash clustered around her site.  That’s a collective noun for a group of free-range fellow bloggers, so she decided that the theme would be Collective nouns this week.  Give it a try.  See if you can do any better.

  1. A dynasty of ………………………..

The worst ducking TV series ever aired.
2. A bevy of ……………………………

Empty pub ale glasses
3. A mustering of ………………………

Armed Services vets, at the George Santayana commemorative services, being held in your local Royal Legion, or VFW.  My Father was an ex-WWII member, then there was Korea, then Viet Nam, then Iraq, then Afghanistan.  😯  When will they ever learn?  When will they ever learn?
4. A scold of …………………………….

My wife’s constant nagging list of helpful suggestions to improve myself.  😉
5. A cast of ……………………………….

Teenage boys, practicing for the Darwin Awards Olympics.  After their arms have healed, they can try the Dig A Huge Hole In The Beach’ challenge.  😯
6. A sedge of ……………………………

Water plants in the moat around my little country cottage
7. A comb of ……………………………

Thanksgiving turkeys.  I just go bananas for a big meal of tryptophan turkey and stuffing (myself).
8. A pod of ……………………………..

Tide detergent-eating challenges – for those who survived number 5.
9. A covey of ……………………………

C. W. McCall’s greatest hit – Convoy Whuzzat?? Covey, not convoy?  Oh Hell – just listen to it anyway.
10. A party of …………………………………

Actually, TWO parties – The one that threw Boris Johnson out on his arse – and the one the nation threw after it happened.

I will try to collect my wits – the noun for which is, black hole – before we meet again on Monday.

Flash Fiction #282

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

SHIVER ME TIMBERS

Drifting and dreaming, neither completely asleep nor fully awake, softly, gently, wafting upward towards consciousness, like a child’s toy balloon.  No blaring alarms, no beeping cellphones, shall I awaken?  What must I do today??

After half a century of faithful service to often unfaithful employers, I serve no man.  Master of my own fate, except for She Who Must Be Obeyed, Captain of my own ship, I chart my own course.  I eat when I am hungry, and sleep when I am tired.  I hear the siren call to compose another blog post.  Avast and ahoy my fellow Friday Fictioneers.

***

If you’d like to join the fun with the Friday Fictioneers, go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site, and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

The Three Italian Bears

Once upon a time, the following was read into the official minutes of an IBM stockholders meeting.  Read it aloud, in a thick, Italian accent

Die Tri Berrese

(di’sse libretto ise for dos iu laicho to follow di spicche – wait, ise spicche)

Uans appona taim uas tri berres; mamma berre, papa berre, a bebi berre.  Live inna contri nire foresta.  NAISE AUS, no mugheggia.  Uanno dei, papa,mamma enne beibe go toda biche, onie, forghetta locche di doors.  Bai enne bai commese Goldilocchese.  Sci garra nattinge tudo batte maiche troble.  Sci pushie olle fudde daon di maute; no live cromme.  Dan sci goe appesteresse enne slipse in olla di beddse.
LEISE SLOBBE!

Bai enne bai commese omme di tri berrese, olle sonne-bronde enne sand inna scius.  Dei garra no fudde, dei garra no beddse.  En wara dei goina due to Goldilocchse?  Tro erre inna strit?  Colle pulissemenne?
FETTE CIENZE!

Dei uas bietenicche Berrese, enne dei slippa on a floore.  Goldilocchese stai derre tree dase; itte aute ausenhomme, en geusta bicose dei asche erre to maiche di beddse, sci sei “GO TO ELLE,”enne runne criene to erre mamma, tellen erre uat sonnesabietches di tri berres uar.
UATSIUSE?  Uara iu goin due – Go compliene sittiole?

Respectfully dedicated to Edelwasia, who did not get a chance to publish it   😀

Thanx, H.E.

I’m Going To End It All

ATTENTION, ALL FOLLOWERS AND READERS

This blog-site has been shut down, dismantled and disposed of.

Thank you for your past patronage.
_____________________________

We’re all April Fools if you think that you can get rid of me that easily.  I’m having fresh, new rants and raves delivered from Amazon, even as you read this.

Please keep arms and legs inside the ride at all times.

Anti-nausea pills, barf-bags and refunds will not be issued.

You’re on your own!

Make sure your restraining bar is down tight.  Here we go.

😀

***

Why would I quit, when I’ve finally managed to get 2500 followers?   😕

BEDA Warning

For years I have been lithely and nimbly avoiding the April A To Z Challenge trap, by spreading my weight out over the entire year.  This year I have been ensnared in the BEDABlog Every Day in April Challenge.  I have decided to – not abandon my Monday, Wednesday, Friday posting schedule – but add to it.

To my 13 regularly-scheduled April posts, I will add another 17, to sate the month, and my readers.  Many of the extra posts will be like little mental flickers from a 4th of July sparkler – like my 100-word Flash Fictions – a quick, bright idea, there and then gone.  Others may be a little wordier.  Oh good.  Thanx for the warning.

I had 45 unpublished posts in the can, in a Word file, when I found out about this, and I’ve already composed a couple of short new ones.  If any of my readers have an idea, a topic, a prompt, something they wish discussed, researched or satirized, feel free to submit your subject in the comments.

Why couldn’t I do this in February, when there’s only 28 days??!  😳

Onward and upward!  Excelsior!

The Year In Photos

Inspiration strikes – when Inspiration strikes.  This ‘Year,’ will begin and end on March 1.  Hang onto your seats!  Here we go.  The theme will be Chaos And Confusion.  I’ll be Chaos, if you’ll handle the confusion.

March 1/21 – the monthly Costco visit

COVID masks, COVID masks
COVID all the way
(To the tune of Jingle Bells)

March 8 –

We washed the son’s work jacket…. And his 10 year old flip-phone.
Might be the origin of the term “Clean and Jerk

March 15 –

The wife’s last visit to a Physiotherapist, for a pulled back muscle.
My last cold wait outside – here.

March 22

The neighbors’ version of Groundhog Day.  Canadian weather changes quickly in the spring.

March 29

It’s Ours!  It’s Ours!  It’s Ours!
Paid off a 25-year mortgage in just over 17 years.  Can’t decide how to celebrate – McDonalds for a sundae strains the entertainment budget.

April 5

Here we go round the Mulberry bush
Hardly a bush, this young tree was 6’ – as tall as the Grandson – when we planted it five years ago.  The winter’s snows have all disappeared.  Soon I will have to mow my back yard again.

Week of April 12

The daughter and I got some COVID freedom and fresh air when I drove her to a dental appointment.  During the wait, I rewarded myself with a visit to the second-best French fries outlet – on the other side of town.  Finally open for the season at Easter, in a freestanding ex-Dairy Queen building.

W/O April 19

With a great-grandson on the way, the wife went into nesting mode.  She knitted a 36” X 48” crib blanket.  The checkerboard pattern is ‘Wee Bean,’ for our oncoming wee bean.

W/O April 26

Step on a crack – Break your Mother’s back
I’ll set you straight.
A visit to our Chiropractor.  Just another on the long list of our medical specialists.

W/O May 3

Our magnolia bush.  Its blossoms only last a couple of days, but it’s gorgeous while it lasts.  Usually it is completely covered in blooms, but a late-April freeze and snowstorm delayed/killed about half the flowers.

W/O May 10

A shopping trip past the new Google building, erected on the bones of my old auto-parts plant.

W/O May 17

Took the wife and daughter to Podiatrist, in a renovated Century-house.
At least the COVID wait outside was getting warmer.

W/O May 24

A visit to the daughter, held up by the new LRT Street Railway.  It sure holds up a lot of non-PC, car traffic, while it transports a half-dozen eco-friendly hipsters.

W/O May 31

When I finally get past that damned street railroad, this is the daughter’s single-level, handicap townhouse apartment.

W/O June 7

She doesn’t rub me the wrong way.
The ‘Happy Ending’ at our massage therapist is loosened computer-shoulders.
Dolly Parton once said that it cost a lot of money, to look that cheap.
It is fortunate that it’s my retirement benefits package which pays so much, to keep us in good physical shape.

W/O June 14

A free, origami Lotus blossom, picked up at our Multicultural festival, before COVID struck.  It represents peace and tranquility – I need all I can get.

W/O June 21

A trip to our out-of-town Vet, past 1920s Commemorative ‘Pioneer Tower,’ to recall the 1820s arrival of Pennsylvania Dutch/ German immigrants

W/O June 28

The best French fry wagon in town.  Sure looks permanent, for a trailer.  Hello delicious.  Goodbye diet – and I found a new little knife.  See Look Sharp

W/O July 1

To celebrate Canada Day on July 1, the son adopted an immigrant.  It crawled over the remains of Trump’s wall, shouting, “To Hell with Dia de los Muertos, I’m here for the Maple syrup.”

W/O July 8

The replacement building at the nearby Farmers’ Market for the wooden structure that burned, five years ago.

W/O July 15

The nearby branch of the city library.  With up to 5000 total books per day located, moved and curbside delivered, these folks were local heroes, getting me and many others through the lockdown.

W/O July 22

My 1952 print dictionary, which I am giving up for digital.  2000 pages for $20.00 – purchased at a country schoolyard flea-market in 1972, in Mar Ontario – population 4.

July 25

The wife and I finally got our second COVID vaccination.  That’s one infection you don’t need to worry about contracting from me.

W/O Aug. 5

 

Ex-Public Utilities Commission building which handled the 20th Century electrification of Kitchener, and eventually   became the Grandson’s Starbucks.

W/O Aug. 12
*

A lovely, hand-made glass flower that the daughter gave us.  I stuck it in a planter on the back deck.  Storm winds turned it slightly.  The neighbors worried that we’d installed a security camera – facing them.

W/O Aug. 19

I helped the grandson pick up a new chair for his mother, and almost stepped on this cat.
(It was a carved stone cat which we both thought was real  The photo may be added later…. if I can just find it.)  😛

W/O Aug. 26

Perhaps the most boring week of my life – not that I’m complaining.  At my age, boring is good.  The most exciting thing that happened was my newspaper got delivered.

W/O Sept 14


I discovered that my Lilac bush was growing crab-apples, which I could make crab-apple jelly with.

W/O Sept 21

I did it! I lasted long enough to celebrate my 77th birthday.  We voted in a Federal election the day before.  I did not get the present of a new Prime Minister – one who wasn’t a spoiled trust-fund baby.

W/O Oct 11

Canadian Thanksgiving.  COVID restrictions on group size had been relaxed, and all of us had had two vaccine shots.  We were all able to gather for a family meal, with the GREAT-grandson (above) as the honored guest.

W/O Nov. 8

COVID19 is going down for the count.  The Americans let vaccinated Canadians into the country – but the Canadian bureaucrats insisted on a $200 test to get back into Canada. Soon, Galleria and Boulevard Mall, soon.

W/O Nov. 15

Spring has sprung – Fall has fell – and there’s 6 inches of Partly Cloudy on my Canadian deck.  I published this photo a few years ago, but it’s become ritual with this home-owner.  This year’s version is indistinguishable.

W/O Nov. 22

Those who do not learn from the mistakes of history, are doomed to repeat them.
George Santayana

Dec. 2

The relaxation of COVID19 restaurant restrictions allowed us to go to Red Lobster to celebrate our 54th wedding anniversary.

W/O Dec. 5

And the lion shall lie down with the lamb
With our three cats and two dogs, our Vet wonders if they get along with each other.

W/O Dec. 12

Two weeks ago, I took two quarters from a pay phone slot.  Last week I found a dime in a change-counter machine overflow.  This week I found 61 pennies, because the machines are now set to eject them.  15 of them were American – which went in our We’ll get to Detroit for a weekend shopping after COVID, fund.

W/O Dec. 25

At a COVID-permitted family Christmas gathering, I found some strange man holding my GREAT-grandson Rowan back, to keep him from lunging at the camera.

W/O Jan. 3

Well, here’s another fine year we’ve got ourselves into. (Laurel and Hardy – here’s another fine mess) Survive, or submit, it’s up to us to make the best of it.

W/O Jan. 10

We don’t have enough knives in this house, so we adopted yet another, which came back to the son’s plant in an ‘empty’ shipping container.

W/O Jan. 17

To get our third COVID (booster) shot, we had to go downtown, to the recently-ex Regional Municipal Building.  Are more COVID and booster shots still in the future??  Will this never end?

Jan. 31

I think I can.  I think I can.
I thought I could.  I thought I could.
Slow and steady wins the race.
After ten+ years, I published 1500 posts.

W/O Feb. 19

COVID restrictions relaxed – again, just in time to book a reservation to celebrate the wife’s 73rd birthday.  Dining was at half capacity.  Our timing was perfect.  Everyone else found out about it, and the NEXT DAY you couldn’t get a table at gunpoint.  😯

March 1/22

*

So we end the year right where we began it – at Costco – only a little closer to free food samples again.

Thanx for strolling through a year in my life – lotsa good readin’, if ya like pitchers.  I will be purveying prose on Friday.  C U then.  😀

Anatomy Of Insomnia

If there’s no rest for the wicked, I must be evil, Evil, EVIL!  😈  If it isn’t one thing – it’s everything.

The wife normally goes to bed several hours before my dead-tired deadline.  She has sleep apnea, a CPAP machine, and a full-face mask.  Usually, it is whisper quiet, producing a soft, slight susurration of white noise that helps to quickly transport me to slumber-land.  Then, there are nights like….

4:55 am
I enter the bedroom, dispossess the cat sleeping at her feet, call the two Scotty dogs into the bedroom and up on the bed, and close the door to keep the cat out, and the dogs from getting into trouble.  I manage to wedge myself between the dogs, and finally doze off.

6:00 AM
The wife moves in her sleep, breaking the seal on her facemask, which begins to do an imitation of an tenor sax.
I burrow back into the pillow, determined to fall back to sleep.
Whether because of the instrumental, or the cat in the hall, one of the dogs uses my leg as a starting block, and leaps to the floor and whines.
My bladder insists that we’re getting up.

I stumble into the bathroom.  In the illumination of a small nightlight, I find a puddle of toilet paper on the floor.  The evicted cat likes to play with the rolls.  We have small plastic clips that prevent this, but the wife, in a semi-conscious state, apparently forgot to put it on.
I turn on the light to see, so that I can rewind it.
I’m now awake enough to realize I have twenty words that I want to add to a blog.
I step into the computer room and turn on the light.
As I’m typing, the cat marches back and forth in front of the monitor, leaps on my shoulder, and yells in my ear.  I add a prompt to a different blog draft.

With all this going on, the dogs leak out of the bedroom, and insist that they need to go outside for another leak.  I trudge downstairs, put them out, wait, and bring them in.
With the orchestra tuning up, there’s no sense going back upstairs.  Maybe I can doze off on the couch.  I toss a throw over me and get comfy…. And two dogs lick my face to find out why I’m not in bed.

A different cat who’s always looking for warmth, jumps up on me, and snuggles behind my knees.  Warm and somnolent again, we both try to go to sleep.
The computer-room cat walks across my chest and yells in my ear, to explain that he was trying to tell me upstairs, that he wanted to be fed.  Off the couch and to the cat food.

It’s now after 7:00 AM.  Perhaps I could lie back in the recliner.  Two dogs jump up and settle between my legs.  Warm and drowsy, I can feel sleep approaching.
The cold cat is now at the top of the stairs, complaining.  The dogs again use me as starting blocks to go find out why, rocking the recliner.
Soon, one dog returns, along with the cat, which cuddles into my crotch.  My mind is now racing with a theme for a 100-word Flash Fiction.

8:05 AM  The son arrives home from work.  Two humans, two dogs, and three cats create a combination of a three-ring circus, and a four-alarm fire.
Always bad, my memory is worse when I’m tired.  I had a great idea for the upcoming A 2021 Challenge, but have already forgotten it.  By 9:00 AM I have most of this post composed, but I have to have the wife to a 1:00 PM appointment.  We’ll be back up by eleven.  If you see a zombie shuffling past, it’s not looking for brains.  It’s just me, looking for mine, and hoping for my (early/extended) afternoon nap.

Tell Me If You’ve Heard This One – V

Agon (noun) [AH-gahn]
Conflict, especially the dramatic conflict between the main characters in a literary work.
The family feud in “Romeo and Juliette” is a famous agon.

Billow (verb) [BIL-oh]
to swell up, to puff out, as by the action of wind
Held by two men, the flag billowed within their grasp as though it could unfurl any moment.

Clishmaclaver (noun) [klish-muh-kley-ver, kleesh]
Scottish: gossip, idle or foolish talk
There was no way that Robbie Burns Day would be cancelled.  It was utter clishmaclaver.

Ekistics (noun) [ih-kis-tiks]
The scientific study of human settlements, drawing on diverse disciplines, including architecture, city planning, and behavioral science.
(Look out!  Big Brother is watching you.)

Gewgaw (noun) [gyoo-gaw, goo]
Something gaudy and useless, trinket, bauble
The tourist market was filled with nothing but counterfeit handbags and gewgaws – objects that no-one really wanted

Gleek (verb) [gleek]
Archaic: To make a joke, to jest
First recorded 1540 – 50, of uncertain origin  (Let’s Blame the Scots.)
In Shakespearean plays, joking was referred to as gleeking

Impecunious (adjective) [im-pi-kyoo-nee-uh s]
Having little or no money, penniless, poor
The dot-com crash left him impecunious, with not a cent to his name.

Moira (noun) [moy-ruh]
A person’s fate or destiny
She believed that it was her moira to win a gold Olympic medal.

Naissance (noun) [ney-suh ns]
A birth, an organization, or a growth, as that of a person, an organization, an idea, or a movement.
The naissance of the Civil Rights Movement occurred on college campuses.

Pilgarlic (noun) [pil-gahr-lik]
A person regarded with mild or pretended contempt or pity
Chris was a bit of a pilgarlic, untrusted and untrustworthy.

Pyknic (adjective) [pik-nik]
Characterised by shortness of stature, broadness of girth, and powerful musculature
Even though he had a pyknic build – short and stocky – he was well-known for his brute strength.

Remonstrate (verb) [ri-mon-streyt]
To say or plead in protest, objection, or disapproval
The decision to trade the popular player caused many fans to remonstrate.

Shimony – also Simony (noun)  [sehy-muh-nee, sim-uh]
the making of profit out of sacred things.
the sin of buying or selling ecclesiastical preferments, benefices, etc.
1175–1225; Middle English simonie <Late Latin simōnia; so called from Simon Magus, who tried to purchase apostolic powers; see Simon (def. 5)-y3
This is the word which my son, Shimoniac, bases his online identity on.

Whatsis (noun) [hwuhts-iss, hwots-,wuhts-, wots-]
A thing or object whose name one does not know, or cannot recall
Having momentarily forgotten the word for “stapler,” he asked his colleague to bring him the whatsis.

Word is, there’ll be another great post in a couple of days.  See you there.  Don’t be late.  You know how grumpy my ego can get, if it hasn’t been fed.  👿

The Long And Winding Road

It was ten years ago today – November 21, 2011 – that I burst upon the wide and welcoming WordPress landscape.  I immediately began spewing forth bullshit to fertilize the fields, and bring in crops of creativity, contentment and controversy.

A WHOLE TEN YEARS?

IT’S BEEN AN ENTIRE DECADE?

I can’t possibly know all two million WordPress participants, but of the popular, well-known blog-sites of ten years ago, faint few are still posting.  AFrankAngle has ceased his social/political observations, and in his retirement, has re-invented himself as Beach Walk Reflections, offering more philosophical meditations.

Like me, although more lucidly, the Coastal Crone is still pumping out rants and rambles on a wide variety of interesting subjects.  After you’re finished reading my work, you might have a look at each of them.

While my blogging was to be a way to occupy my time in retirement, and give me a chance to be creative and tell my little stories, I have treated it as at least a part-time job.  With no-one to answer to but me, I still work hard to guarantee that scheduled posts are ready and published on time.  While I treasure my visitors, I still also do this very much for me, to keep me organized and thinking clearly.

Other than a few, extra, bonus posts like this, I long ago settled into a steady three-a-week, Monday/Wednesday/Friday publishing schedule.  Tallying it up, it means that this is my 1475th post.  I recently turned 77.  With good genes, and increasing medical support, I hope to still be doing this in another ten years.  I look forward to be still attracting someone’s attention.

As I threaten, at the top, I offer rants and rambles about many things.  I have provided history, humor, insights into language development, politics, religion, and some peeks into growing up in both a small town, and one that is crammed with big-city summer residents.

As The Beatles say, it’s been The Long and Winding Road, and I have enjoyed every twisted mile of it.   A big shout-out and thanx to all my visitors, both past and future.  Excelsior!!

Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com! You registered on WordPress.com 10 years ago. Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging.