WOW # 28

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For all you either/or, bits and bytes, take it or leave it, coming or going, ones and zeros lovers, the Word Of the Week is

UNARY

Adjective – consisting of, or affecting, a single element or component; monadic

Word origin for unary – 1923, from Latin unus “one” (see one ) on model of binary, etc.

You just knew that, if there’s the word ‘binary’, for ‘two,’ guys like me mean that there’ll be a “My way or the highway” word for ONE.

Actually, it’s not even a Hobson’s Choice word between a poor option and nothing. It shows a mandatory, single course of action.  ‘Free Will’ is an illusion when unary is in town.

In my teens, one day my Mother told me to perform some chore. Trying to show some I’m growing into an adult spunk, I asked, “or else what?”  She calmly replied, “There’s no ‘or else’.  It needs doing.  It’s your job. Do it!”

Much as many of us value our independence, freedom, and options, there are times that life just throws one of these, It’s gotta be done, and there’s only one way to do it curve-balls at us.  Now there’s a word for it that you can throw back.   🙄

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Flash Fiction #141

Eat Your Heart Out

PHOTO PROMPT © Kelvin M. Knight

SIBLING RIVALRY

“It’s no fair, Mom! How come Robbie gets to go on the school art museum trip, and I don’t??  He’s just a year older”

“Howie, I told you before. You have to improve your grades, but despite being yelled at several times, you’re too busy playing street-hockey with your ‘posse’ to do your homework.  You’ve slipped from B-, to C.  You’ll have to stay home and study.”

Rob couldn’t resist taunting his younger brother. “Art is for people with maturity.  You haven’t been showing much lately, so you have to stay home while I go, and eat your heart out.”

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

2017 A To Z Challenge – Gastronomy

Challenge2017  Letter G

Don’t confuse the title of this post with Astronomy. That’s the study of heavenly bodies.  This will be about the study of my body.  It’s far from heavenly, but it has its own gravitation field, and can cause eclipses.

For the first half of my working career, eating and weight gain were no big deal. My office jobs were so sedentary that I didn’t require great numbers of calories.  With two kids to raise, there wasn’t a lot of spare cash available for French fries, junk food or soft drinks, and the wife had not yet become the great cook that she would be a bit later in life.  Although I did manage to go from a stick-thin kid of 135 pounds, to a solid, well-built man of 185, and stayed that way for years.

All that changed when I left the offices, parked my brain at the door, and went to work in the plants. Suddenly, the jobs were so physical that I needed and consumed 3000/3500 calories a day.  The kids grew up, and there was enough cash for the occasional fast food treat, and the wife was described by her brother, a professional chef, as a better cook than him.

185 lbs. crept to 190, then 195, then to 200. I’m a good eater.  The greeter at the grocery end of Wal-Mart says, “Welcome back Archon. It’s always nice to see you.  Two more visits and I can retire to Florida.”  The wife learns 5 new recipes, and I gain 5 new pounds.  Now I’m 205 lbs., and I can see retirement looming, but not my toes.  Changes have to be made!

The wife says that we’re getting older, and the chance of weak bones is increasing, so drink chocolate milk and eat cheese every day. I’m okay if I stay upstairs, in the computer room, but if I go downstairs in the evening, I’m wrestled to the ground by a toasted bagel – or some potato chips that were on sale – or cookies and hot chocolate.  It’s always something.

I have lots of will power. What I need is some won’t power.  The wife thinks I’m obsessive, because I weigh myself every day.  Seven years into retirement, I’ve passed 210, and occasionally 215.  217!  218!  The day I saw 220, I – not ‘panicked’ – but something has to be done.  Something other than letting the white beard grow back in, and buying a Santa suit.

Yesterday, the scale read 209.8, but my blood pressure was 136/78. The diastolic is still low, but I need to do something about the systolic – like lose some more weight.  I don’t want to be the guy in the Christmas song – round John Virgin.  If I was the victim of a shooting, the chalk outline would be a circle.

Thanx for reading the whine I had with my cheese. I’ll see you around….as long as I’m not quite as round next time.   😳

Fat Man

Flash Fiction #29

Messy Yard

 

 

 

 

 

 

Teenage Wasteland

Halfway down the hill was a small clearing, set like a saucer.  The local parents knew of it because most of them had been there in their teens, to puff a prohibited cigarette, or for a bit of necking and furtive fumbling.

Nowadays, parents and police alike, wondered what the town’s teens were doing up there, but the trees still grew thick.

Last week, a torrential downpour had spilled water over the edge, causing a minor flood and scouring out the dell.

Now the evidence lay in plain sight at the base.  Not exactly Sodom and Gomorra.  What to do??!

 

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story