Wednesday's Words on a Friday
On Wednesdays, Delores,
from Under The Porch Light, has a meme which she calls
“Words for Wednesday”.
She puts up a selection
of six words which we then use in a short story, or a poem.
I’m hopeless at poetry
so I always do a story.
It’s a fun challenge…why
not join in?
This week's words are:
1. surprise
2. aromatic
3. elfin
4. toboggan
5. steep
6. dashing
We also have a photo to work with:
"The yard bore a striking resemblance to the aftermath of an explosion in a marshmallow factory."
Here is my story: (okay, technically it's not a story...)
Kate had been baking most of the day and the house was filled with the aromatic scents of warmed cinnamon and ginger. As she pulled the final tray of gingerbread men from the oven, Kate thought about the surprise gift Richard was bringing home later today.
Their son, Nick, was eleven and a half and had been reminding them for weeks that his old toboggan was too small and they had promised him a try at the steeper hill behind Johnno's farm this year, since he was so much taller now. Richard had ordered a larger toboggan from a city department store and was collecting it on his way home from work.
Setting the tray on the cooling rack, Kate heard the sounds of children gathering at the door. It was the carol singers, the newly formed children's choir, coming around early so they could all be home before dark. None of them was over twelve, so a ring of parents stood behind them as they sang their way through Good King Wenceslas. Kate spotted the elfin face and wispy curls of her niece Alexis, at six, one of the two youngest of the group.
After the children had sang three carols, Kate handed out fresh cookies to each child and after dashing quickly back into the kitchen for more, a couple to each of the parents too.
Later, while washing up the mountain of mixing bowls, cookie sheets, cutters and spoons, Kate looked out the window to see snow beginning to fall gently upon the garden. Richard should be home any minute now, looking forward to the beef potroast and mashed potatoes Kate always cooked on this last work day of the year. Tomorrow he would be on holidays for a month, plenty of time to do all the little things around the house that needed his attention, as well as helping Nick learn to handle the much bigger toboggan.
With a self-satisfied smile Kate gave the now clean sink a final wipe down and began to set the table for two.
Nick was spending the night with his cousins Alexis and ten year old Steven. Kate's sister Sarah had invited him so the big new toboggan wouldn't accidentally be seen before Christmas day.
Dinner was a very peaceful time without Nick's constant reminders of how tall he now was and how the steep hill behind Johnno's seemed so much smaller now that he was "practically a grown up, Mum".
Kate and Richard left the dishes to soak in the sink while they wrapped the toboggan as best as they could, but really there was no disguising the shape of the thing. Richard said after two rolls of paper had been used, they might just as well have stuck a bow on it without any paper, Nick wouldn't be any less surprised.
They washed up the dishes and went upstairs to bed, glancing out of the landing window long enough to see the snow was falling harder now and beginning to blanket the yard.
Next morning, as Kate let the puppy out for his morning ritual she stared in amazement at how much snow had fallen overnight.
The yard bore a striking resemblance to the aftermath of an explosion in a marshmallow factory.
Soft mounds of snow, looking remarkably like melted marshmallow, lay on the ground, on the bushes along the side yard and
over the side fence, Kate could see the rest of the neighbourhood similarly blanketed.
Looking out over the bay behind their cottage, while waiting for Roscoe to finish sniffing around, Kate could see the same mounds of marshmallowy snow blanketing the foreshore that lay between their cottage and the town.
It was going to be a picture perfect Christmas this year.
Wow. Loved the story - and the images really added to the magic. Are those the fruits of your baking?
ReplyDeleteA picture perfect Christmas to one and all of us. Lovely story.
ReplyDeleteAwww, Katie! That was so precious! Sounded like it came from baking experienced?
ReplyDeleteBeautiful short story and fantastic use of the words and sentence.
ReplyDeleteYou are so clever with words and your stories are even better than usual if that is possible. I am sure those writing classes have really paid off in such a short time.
ReplyDeleteLoved the story and the idea of snow at Christmas is always wonderful to this Aussie.
Thank you for a delightful tale of love and happiness.
That was a cute story; I love how you described the snow as looking like marshmellows!
ReplyDeletebetty
Elephant's Child; sorry to disappoint, the cookies are googled images. I haven't done any Christmas baking yet.
ReplyDeleteJoanne; thank you.
Susan Kane; plenty of baking and washing up experience, but we don't get snow or carol singers downunder.
Delores; thank you, my mind had the story almost as quickly as I read the words.
Mimsie; the writing classes are in my mind every time I write something now and I think the pictures helped with this one.
betty; thank you. I've seen snow in magazines and on TV and sometimes it really does look like melted marshmallow. (marshmallow has no "e")
You certainly have a gift, River. The scenes you painted was almost like a perfect northern hemisphere Christmas. I could smell those cookies, hear the carol singers and was looking forward to the toboggan as much as Katie and Nick.
ReplyDeleteAs an aside, those gingerbread men were so cute - it's almost a pity to eat them.
Marie; I've seen a lot of Christmas movies. I love eating gingerbread men, but you have to eat the feet first so they can't run away.
ReplyDelete