The Wordzzle Must Go On

Before we get to this week’s Wordzzle. I’m having problems with IE or Blogger – or Both. I can’t get to some blogs including my own. So I need to launch Firefox, look up the blog’s addy and then go from there. I don’t know if this has anything to do with last night’s “Spam-Gate” debacle. The funny thing is one of the blogs that was flagged as “spam” is a blog I can get to with no problem.

Did Blogger fix one problem by creating another? Or is it just me?

Ahhhh the questions of life.

Anyho – here is this week’s continuation of Finola’s Story. Please drop by RAVEN’S NEST and check out all the others.

Ten Word Challenge: ghastly, excrement, bill of sale, vague, thicket, precarious, life long ambition, gunnery sergeant, posthumous, bellowed

Mini Challenge: lap of luxury, yellow-bellied sapsucker, quinine, generalization, abnormality

Finola Part Seven:

Finola sat through dinner with “them” feeling as though she was in a thicket of thorns. She had a ghastly stress headache and more than a vague sense of discomfort; it continuously struck her how precarious her situation was. Finola felt she had convinced Lovee and his wife that she was not wanted by the police. The wife seemed very kind and gentle, actually they both did but the husband also seemed suspicious.

“You look uncomfortable” Lovee said, making Finola jump out of her thoughts. “I hope you like the food” Ireland said, “we don’t exactly entertain in the lap of luxury but we try our best”. Finola smiled at Ireland, she really liked her. She knew it was a huge generalization but Ireland was the epitome of ‘Southern hospitality”. It was Finola’s life long ambition to travel the world and the southern states had always been at the top of her list. Finola was just about to tell Ireland the wings and mashed potatoes were great when Lovee bellowed “look at that yellow-bellied sapsucker go!” Both Finola and Ireland looked in the direction of Lovee’s outstretched arm. “I don’t see a sapsucker dear” Ireland said quietly. Finola giggled at how patient Ireland was with Lovee. “All I see is a puff of yellow feathers, could be any number of birds”. Lovee insisted it was a sapsucker as Finola continued to giggle at both of them, she especially liked the way Lovee said sapsucker. Finally Ireland gave in. “OK it’s a sapsucker, in fact after dinner why don’t we all go search for its hole – perhaps there will be enough excrement for DNA testing”. Lovee’s laugh was deep and made Finola feel better about him. “My wife’s wit is a bit like drinking quinine” he told Finola, “you know it has good intentions but it still goes down bitter”. Ireland smiled at her husband as she cleared away the dinner dishes.

Finola joined Ireland inside the RV while Lovee strolled near the woods. Ireland watched her husband from the window and smiled sweetly. He was in the Marines you know” she said – partly to herself and partly to Finola. “I know he was a sergeant I’m just not sure what kind – Master or First or Gunnery Sergeant I think – maybe all three”. Once again the sound of Ireland’s laugh calmed Finola. “He comes off as rather gruff doesn’t he?” Finola wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer. “He’s such an abnormality within his family” Ireland went on. “They’re all so hateful and careless with life, I’m glad we don’t live near them anymore”. Last time we saw any of them was when Lovee’s youngest brother was awarded the Medal of Honor. A shame it had to be posthumous, he was killed in Iraq, I’ll never understand why he went there at his age”. To get away from the rest of them I suppose, and to try and keep the young ones alive I’m sure, he always said they’re not trained enough or equipped right. I’m so glad Lovee stayed with me”.

“Are you ready to go looking for sapsuckers?” Lovee called. Ireland and Finola looked at each other and laughed. “I can’t believe how I went on” Ireland said. “I guess I sounded like a rambling old woman”. Finola assured Ireland that she hadn’t been rambling and she sure wasn’t old. Ireland looked pleased. They joined Lovee outside bringing coffee and cake with them. “So Finola” Lovee looked her in the eyes. “I think we should go find your abandoned car tomorrow”. Finola told him it wasn’t worth the trip, the car was old, a piece of junk really. “Nonsense” Lovee responded. “We’ll find the car and sell it, even if just for parts” Finola felt the panic building up again. She imagined herself admitting that the car had been stolen as she said “the car’s not in my name, it’s my mother’s car. I don’t think she’d want me selling it, I don’t think you’re allowed to sell someone else’s car”. Lovee told Finola not to worry. They would find all the paperwork and he’d put together a bill of sale.

“Let’s enjoy the rest of the evening” Ireland said. “Tomorrow we’ll call Finola’s mother and then set off looking for the car – and sapsuckers.”

POOR FINOLA’S BEGINNING
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX