Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “starts with ‘ho.’” Find a word that begins with the letters “ho” and use it any way you’d like. Have fun!
Ho fame. Sounds like a stage-struck sailor. It means, I’m hungry. Or rather I have hunger. In Italian.
I love words and languages. I find them fascinating.
Why do we personalize that growling noise in our tummies? I am not Hungry. But then I don’t have it in my hands. What would that look like.
Take all the gendered items in the world. Can you imagine a roomful of people deciding if the table is feminine or masculine. And sometimes the appearance of an object might imply one or the other, but when you get it wrong you learn shape or personal use doesn’t genderize.
And don’t get me started on word order. Spanish, Italian, etc. go one way but step over to German and the hole I fall into is of my own making.
The only saving grace I have is listening to the brave souls learning English. I can hear their mistakes in our word order and now get it right in theirs.
However lessor-heard languages like Navajo, Gaelic, Latin, Esperanzo are even more difficult.
Who decided how each language goes?
Now I’ve given myself a headache. I can think of nothing else to say but Ho, ho, ho. But let’s get through Halloween Eve, first.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “toast.” Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
What can one say about lowly toast? It can sometimes be the only satisfying food substance, even when trying to avoid gluten or carbs. There are times that nothing else will foot the bill. What? That’s a strange saying! Hold on, I need to look that up.
Okay. Not a good use of the idiom. But neither does ‘fit the bill.’
And what does that have to do with toast?
This might have been a fun topic to discuss after a round of toasts.
Finished Scrappy Socks. I still need to sew in ends.
I can’t leave the needles empty so I’ve cast on (Turkish) the toes.
Finally made it to the balloon and the sky.
Since I got back from camping, I’m so tired. Exercise and piano times are less this week. But unpacking and laundry are done. Maybe energy will come next week.
That’s how I felt this week with a friend I zoom often but only see once a year. I miss others I’ve not seen for ages. Thank goodness for Internet and Zoom.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “pad.” Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use it any way you’d like. Have fun!
Right air mattresses, not my body!
But for the pad beneath my well padded body I could have slept so much better.
~~~~
A couple of years ago I bought my family enough air mattresses, tents, and sleeping bags that we could have gone camping a few times. But I seemed to be the only one trying. So I was glad my friend was brave and invited me on her camping adventures.
When my brother and I were kids, our parents took us on 3 weeks of camping every year. We didn’t realize then what a sacrifice it was for them. Dad never took a day off work saving up the time. Mom scraped every penny, and then her sacrificed her health as she packed and stored camp foods then directed the Tetris of car packing. All of that had her nervous tummy upset and dying between gas station restrooms.
Speaking of penny pinching… Mom never let us have much sugar. As much as she could be in the 50s and 60s she was health minded. So a way to control both money spent on junk food, she’d allow us to gather empty coke bottles to turn in at the general store near camp and with that money we could buy candy bars or chips
Anyway, we had air mattresses at first. Just those kinds you can paddle around the lake to float on. They held up to the fun, but invariably all the air was gone by morning cold and I’d be sleeping on rocks. My padding was not thick enough then, either.
So this was my second camping trip with my friend. The air mattresses and blowing up process didn’t coordinate properly for me, so I couldn’t close off the escape of air on time. So I little enjoyed the rocky sea of a half inflated mattress, falling off, or finding it impossible to get up to standing. Finally, I emptied it. I assumed flat on the ground would be better.
But with a Target 10 minutes away, we looked for other necessities. I found a mattress topper that could later be used by my husband on his home hospital bed to keep him from slipping when sitting up in the bed.
This proved the perfect pad. I slept well–except the new campers kept us awake until 3. Our previous camping neighbors were a family group far larger and were fun and minded the 10 pm quiet time rules.
Working on my series: Haven.
Doodler (zendoodle.com)
Music major: voice and piano
Mom of four great adults
Reiki II practitioner
I have been on disability/retired for 10 years now from depression, anxiety and fibromyalgia.
Books, games, music, and life — filtered through the mind of a writer, drummer, and philosopher who thinks too deeply about all of it. If it moves something in your chest, I'm interested.
Darswords 
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