The Fruit of the Vine

It is day 5 of the Third Second Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese and today's prompt is The Empty Bottle.   So toddle on over to WWFC and see the contributions of the other participants.

The fruit of the vine

Makes a wine so fine

By the bottle or glass

It goes fast

Then the bottle is empty

When Hell Freezes Over

It is day 4 of the Third Second Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese and today's prompt is When Hell Freezes Over.  Now skate on over to Nicky's place for more frozen treats.

Adverb*

when Hell freezes over

1. (idiomatic) never; not in this lifetime; not a chance.
   
   

   "Will you go out with him?"

   "When Hell freezes over!"

   
   

   *Source: wikionary

   

   Image Source: wstera2

Care to rethink that remark?

In reality, she probably doesn't have to worry about it.  Hell, as described in many religions, lies far beneath the surface of the earth. For the sake of argument, we will assume hell to be located at the center of the earth, way down at it's fiery core.

Obviously no one has taken it's temperature, but it is estimated at between 9,000 and 11,000 degrees Fahrenheit.  The earth's core is a solid iron ball about one-third the size of the moon, which would easily be melted at these temperatures if not for the weight of the planet pressing down on it.

It is pretty certain this isn't freezing any time soon!

Image Source:  Wikipedia

Super Bowl Madness

It is day 3 of the Third Second Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese and today's prompt is Temporary Insanity.

George had settled into his recliner, his dog at his feet, the remote in his hand, and beer and snacks at the ready.  Just as the game was getting underway, his wife, Deanna came in to adjust the blinds and ask if he wanted anything else.  "George" she said, "Guess what I just read on Facebook? Jeanne posted a link to an article about a woman who just flipped out and tried to strangle her husband while he was watching the Super Bowl last year, but fortunately he overpowered her and called the police.  Isn't that just crazy?"

Image Source:  Camilla

"Yeah, that's nuts", George agreed.  "Some people are real whack jobs.  I'm glad you're not like that.  You don't mind me watching the games do you?"

"Of course not, dear" she crooned, "after all a man needs to relax and feel that his home is his castle."

"By the way, what happened to the woman?" he inquired.  "That was attempted murder.  Was she convicted...is she in jail?"

"Oh my no!  On her attorney's advice she pleaded temporary insanity and was acquitted.*  She then divorced him and took the dog."

George eyed her cautiously.  The game was going on but he wasn't watching.  He just sat there staring at his wife.  Finally he spoke.  "Honey, how would you like to have lunch at Emilio's and maybe go to a movie?" he asked as he switched off the TV.

*This rarely ever happens, and most are committed to a mental institution.

Now go visit WWFC for more creative insanity. 

Risky Business

It is day 2 of the Third Second Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese and today's prompt is It Was No Accident!

A while back I wrote Beyond the Window for Magpie Tales, which I used as an inspiration for this story.  It ended by telling us "what happens next will free them both."  I wouldn't exactly say they were "freed" but I guess it depends on how you look at it.

Big Room, 1948, by Andrew Wyeth

Maggie sat in a quaint outdoor restaurant lunching with several friends, the sun was shining and the tea was sweet.  It was the first time she had smiled in months.  The images that had penetrated her dreams and haunted every waking moment were beginning to blur as time marched forward, taking her reluctantly with it.

Six months earlier she had been coping with the day to day ups and downs of her husband's business, a business that provided well for her but at the same time left her with unanswered questions.

"I have to go to Colombia for a few days, maybe a week" said Tomas.  "There are some contracts that I must see to personally.  When I get back, we will take a trip.  Anywhere you would like to go.  I will even make the arrangements myself."

He is trying, she thought, and smiled her thanks.  "I'll think about it and let you know what I decide" Maggie responded, yet unconvinced the trip would actually take place.

Tomas packed his bag and called his driver to take him to the airport where he boarded the plane.  

"Welcome aboard sir" called the pilot.  

"Where is Manuel?" asked Tomas. 

"He came down with the flu, sir, and I am filling in until he recovers.  Enjoy your flight."

"Thank you."  Tomas proceeded to his seat, and after they were airborne, he asked the flight attendant for a scotch and soda.  His drink finished, he tipped his seat back for a nap.  He was tired and it would be a late night.

As he drifted off, his dreams turned to Maggie.  He saw tears in her eyes, and flowers.  There were so many flowers.  Where was she, and why was she crying?

About that time there was a loud boom as the plane lurched sideways, and there was a gaping hole where the forward bathroom had been.  The explosion had taken out the left engines, the wing was in flames and the pilot was dead.

NTSB investigated, and eventually the voice recorder was recovered.  There was nothing to indicate any mechanical malfunction or human error.  Further scrutiny found the remnants of an explosive device among the wreckage which was believed to have been detonated remotely.  Investigators were still trying to piece together what happened and determine who the intended target was.  Was it Tomas, the dead pilot, or Manuel who was sick with the flu?

Back in Miami, a representative of the NTSB and an FBI agent meet with Maggie.  

"Mrs. Garza, we are so sorry for your loss.  We want you to know that the crash was no accident, and we are continuing our investigation.  Is there anything you can tell us about your husband's business?"

Gouda

Image Source:  Antwelm

Today is the first day of the Third Second Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing challenge hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese and we are starting off in a traditional cheesy fashion. Today's prompt is Gouda.

Now we all know Gouda.  He's a cheesy fellow whose ancestors hail from Holland, but he's easy going and doesn't mind it when things get dicey or somebody takes a slice off him. Nope, shredded or smoked, he always brings something good to the party.  

The one thing that does offend him is when we mispronounce his name. That's right, here in this country we call him goo-da or goo-duh. Before we send him into a complete meltdown, we should remember that he is a foreign visitor here and afford him the courtesy of pronouncing his name the way he's used to.

Listen to the Dutch Pronunciation of Gouda.  That's better!

Some Gouda facts: 

• Gouda is more of a style of cheese than a kind of cheese.

• It's taste is dependent upon how long it is aged.

• It is aged between 4 weeks (young, which is typically served on sandwiches either cold or melted), and up 12 months or longer.  These old Goudas are often served with strong pale beers or Port wine.

• It is the oldest recorded cheese still made today.

• It is not restricted, meaning that it is not required to be made in Gouda to be called Gouda, unlike Parmigiano-Reggiano which has a protected designation of origin and can only be made in certain regions of Italy. 

Now go and see what cheesy treats the other participants have cooked up.