What follows is in response to the 100 Word Challenge, authored by the boisterous Velvet Verbosity. The Word this week is "Quiet".
Private Jernigan lay at the edge of his foxhole, staring into the stygian black of the moonless night. He was watching for movement - any movement - that would give away the presence of the enemy.
They were stretched thin. One man foxholes. Everyone had to stay awake.
He heard the Lieutenant crawling toward his hole. The Lieutenant always made so much noise.
"How's it goin', Jernigan", the Lieutenant asked.
"They're out there, Sir."
"Off to the left front, Sir."
"How can you tell, Jernigan"?
"Jungle noises, Sir. Everywhere but there it's normal jungle noises. There? It's quiet."
Over the weekend I started the process of "Dutching" my Murray Spectra, a 1971 Men's 10 speed road bike. I put new handlebars and brake levers on, for upright seating, a new saddle, for comfort, and new brake cables to accommodate the new brake levers.
Mowed that lawn for what I hope is the last time this year. I hope.
Grannie made some new stuff for her Etsy shop. A couple of crocheted hats to go along with the knitted scarf that's been there since she opened her shop.
Speaking of grannie's shop, she's working on a set - a crocheted, open work hat in "soft sage" (I think it's turquoise) with a matching 6 foot scarf. It will be up before the weekend. Go look. Often.
Yes, I'm still pimpin' Grannie.