Fingle’s Deep Sea Dive

This morning I’m going to respond to Sadje’s weekend “What do you see?” prompt and including the Ragtag Daily Prompt — this morning it’s VOLUME — in my fishy tale.

Sadje’s prompt: Image credit; Saffu @ Unsplash

Fingle’s Deep Sea Dive

“Morning, Zander. Wha’cha doin’ there?”

“Hey, Mario. I’m watchin’ for Fingle. He’s gone deep-sea diving.”

Mario came up and stood beside him on the dock. “What? Here? In thirty feet of water? Does he have scuba gear?”

“Nah. He dropped his best fishing rod between here and the island. Says he’s not givin’ up ‘til he finds it.”

“Hope he finds it soon or he’ll miss the free food. Mitch’s got a barbecue goin’ at his place and says we’re all welcome. Why don’t you leave Fingle to his rod rescue and come get…”

Suddenly Fingle’s head popped out of the water about twenty metres out. After a couple of gasps and sputters, he called, “Did someone say free food?” He swam to the dock.

“How in the world…? I didn’t think I had that much volume,” Mario exclaimed.”

“Sound travels well underwater, you know.” Fingle climbed onto the dock and stood dripping on the boards. “I’m coming, too. Hope they don’t mind if I’m a little damp.”

Zander grinned. “We’ll tell ’em you went overboard chasing the BIG one.”

“Just so’s you’re not gonna be a wet blanket,” Mario added. “Moaning over your lost rod.”

“I can look for it tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.”

“Yeah.” Zander nudged Mario. “Fingle’s stomach’s bigger than his fishing rod.”

Wet or dry, a good BBQ was had by all. 🙂

Image by Pexels — Pixabay

Time For Adventure

It’s time to respond to this week’s Six Sentence Stories prompt from GirlieOnTheEdge — and this time the prompt word is KEY.

And since time is so EVANESCENT M-W’s Word of the Day — and the Ragtag Daily Prompt is GULCH, I’m throwing in responses to these two prompts as well.

TEMPIS FUGIT

“I tell you, my friend, ‘Tempis Fugit’ : that’s the key to understanding and making the most of this life. Time is evanescent, deciduous, fugacious, fleeting, transient…and we who wish for bold adventures must seize the moment and pack it full ‘ere it escapes us forever.”

“So what do you plan to do about it?” his friend asked.

“Ah, therein lies the problem; we may dream but between our desires and our deeds a great GULCH is fixed.”

Seeing his friend looking puzzled, he elaborated: “Gulch…as in canyon, gorge, gulf, flume, ravine, abyss, chasm.”

“You know, pal, if you spent less time studying the dictionary, you’d have lots more minutes to try those bold adventures you’re talking about.”

Bold adventure image from MoteOoEd — Pixabay

Not My Fault

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is APPARENT. Well, I’m feeling like doing something light today, and since I missed yesterday’s prompt, GAME, I’ll cover them both in this fictitious bit from a sports reporter.

TURFFORD FLUBS TODAY’S GAME

Attempting to distance himself from the blame for his lame game today, gofer Reuben Turfford suggests that his contact lenses were sabotaged by an opponent.

Turfford explained that several golfers were together at a party the night before and during the evening his eyes became sore, so he removed his contacts and set them on the table. He then headed for the gents’ room. “I’m certain that while I was out of the room, one of my opponents tampered with my lenses, warped them somehow,” he claims. “I was still rather bleary-eyed this morning and didn’t notice the difference in my lenses until I tried to hit the ball in today’s tournament. Otherwise I certainly would have won.”

When asked to comment on this issue, his closest opponent Mike Strikem denied the accusation. “Yes, we were all together last night,” he verifies, “But no one touched his contacts. I’m guessing it was his overindulgence at the party that caused his poor game today. At times it was quite apparent that Reuben’s judgement was bleary, not his eyesight.”

Since Turfford wisely tossed his warped lenses right after the game, this explanation remains unverified.

A Day’s Journey

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is TRAFFIC. Here’s a little verse in response:

rush hour traffic
streams of weary communters
snailing homeward

Today We Bury My Sister

Donna died of a drug overdose on November 28, two days after her 66th birthday. Her middle son, James, had her cremated within days, but it’s taken while to arrange burial of her ashes in her daughter Barbie’s grave. Barb died back in 1989, from what likely would have started as cervical cancer. A sad time for us all; Barb was just sixteen and full of life.

Being a Saturday morning, the traffic on the highway between here and Moose Jaw will probably be light. We’re to meet at the cemetery at noon to bury the urn holding Donna’s ashes, then we’ll have a gathering in remembrance, which will take the form of a family picnic in the park. I don’t expect it to be a large gathering, as she lived in her own circle of friends so a lot of her nieces and nephews hardly knew her.

Donna and I were close when we were young — as close as siblings can be when they live in different homes over 100 miles apart — but as an adult she and her family lived here in SK while we moved East and lived in Ontario and Quebec. Coming back to SK, I was only able to locate her a few times. So, sadly I’ve only seen her four or five times in the past thirty years — mainly at family funerals.

I haven’t had anything to do with her Rob & Jason, her oldest & youngest sons, since I spent a few days with Donna when Barb died. Sad when families get so estranged, but my husband and I chose a different path — lifestyle if you will — and lost contact with them. Hopefully we can get a bit more acquainted today.

A Colorful Creature

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is KOOKY. Well, here’s a kooky poem I wrote for the sheer fun of it — with a nod to Ogden Nash’s The Spangled Pandemonium, one of my favorite children’s poems.

The Fugitive

A creature glided through the dark,
he thought it quite the prank,
to break out from the zoo and hide
beside the riverbank.

But patches of its fur showed up
right through the foliage green.
As I passed by those colors roused
my curiosity.

I peered, and spied this creature,
odd-brindled blue and white
with dabs of green and violet.
It gave me such delight!

I couldn't recognize the thing;
my Google didn't help.
I tried to get a closer look
but it gave a fearful yelp!

Some keepers of the zoo ran up
and said, "Say, have you seen
our multi-mottled commingal
with fur white, blue and green?

I pointed to those bushes
that bulged suspiciously
and they set out to capture
their colorful escapee.
Image by Alexandra Koch — Pixabay