~ Another Challenge! {i'm A Meany, Yep...}


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~ Yep, another challenge :dirol:

Hey, if it gets ya practicing & flexing your wonderful artistry, I'm gonna annoy!

Use any variation of the following words;

windowsill

tuft

develop

stifle

purple

... I know, they're awful :shok:

That's why it's a challenge, y'know? :lol:

{I just think of obnoxious words that don't seem connected.

It's to stretch you. Doesn't mean I gotta! It's your challenge...}

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~ Yep, another challenge :dirol:

Hey, if it gets ya practicing & flexing your wonderful artistry, I'm gonna annoy!

Use any variation of the following words;

windowsill

tuft

develop

stifle

purple

... I know, they're awful :shok:

That's why it's a challenge, y'know? :lol:

{I just think of obnoxious words that don't seem connected.

It's to stretch you. Doesn't mean I gotta! It's your challenge...}

In the stifling heat of the summer evening, the last purple rays of sun, like an instant picture developing, washed over the kitten - a mere tuft of fur napping on the windowsill.

Do I get bonus points for using them in reverse order? :lol:

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~ Yep, another challenge :dirol:

Hey, if it gets ya practicing & flexing your wonderful artistry, I'm gonna annoy!

Use any variation of the following words;

windowsill

tuft

develop

stifle

purple

... I know, they're awful :shok:

That's why it's a challenge, y'know? :lol:

{I just think of obnoxious words that don't seem connected.

It's to stretch you. Doesn't mean I gotta! It's your challenge...}

not pleasant thoughts at this hour of the morning...

Teenagers. From the windowsill, you can see what used to be hair-- now in purple tufts, blue green and raspberry-barf spikes, yet we must not stifle their creativity, but urge them to develop their self-expression. Or not. :umph:

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not pleasant thoughts at this hour of the morning...

Teenagers. From the windowsill, you can see what used to be hair-- now in purple tufts, blue green and raspberry-barf spikes, yet we must not stifle their creativity, but urge them to develop their self-expression. Or not. :umph:

Having seen these kids working behind the counters of the local retail outlets, I can relate. I still smile when I read my paying job's dress code which contains the following phrase regarding hair colors:

Hair must be worn in colors normally created by nature; or by effects caused by nature, e.g.: graying, or baldness.

:rolleyes:

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~ Yep, another challenge :dirol:

Hey, if it gets ya practicing & flexing your wonderful artistry, I'm gonna annoy!

Use any variation of the following words;

windowsill

tuft

develop

stifle

purple

... I know, they're awful :shok:

That's why it's a challenge, y'know? :lol:

{I just think of obnoxious words that don't seem connected.

It's to stretch you. Doesn't mean I gotta! It's your challenge...}

Let's try another image:

In the stifling silence and solitude of the corridor, sit I, in the windowsill.

Glass from my knees to the ceiling above reveal a slowly developing picture.

In the deep purple of the sun's first light lies the shadows of the tops of the pine trees which live on the Blue Hills,

bathed in the cascading mists as the sun turns last evening's dew into tufts of cloud.

I watch as the lights progess from the deepest indigo, through the burgundy and rich blazing oranges then the brightness of the yellows and the full brilliant whiteness of the morning sun.

Fully refreshed by the beauty and sanctity of this gift, I thank the Almighty for creation, and begin my day.

This is a true image. One of my favorite jobs had me working at the satellite campus of my Alma Mater, and what was then the Art wing faced the Blue Hills of Massachusetts. I used to arrive at the school around 6 am, when it was just me and security, and as I would review my itinerary and prepare for my classes and the work schedule for the day, I would sit in the deep windowsill, about 2 1/2 feet deep, with a cup of coffee and the view would just be a movie of the most incredible views as the sun came up over the hills.

Once or twice I have wanted to visit the school and just look out that window one more time, but with 9-11-01 and the types of things that have happened in schools in this country, campus police have locked the school down. One only enters if able to present an active staff or student ID. No more visitors, and even those who have IDs have to be on the schedule that day. If one forgets paperwork in their office, another coworker or a police officer will retrieve it. It is a shame that the freedoms we took for granted in the late 80s will never be there again. I will always be thankful for the memories, though. That can never be taken from me.

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The Queen sits in the Tower's windowsill.

Waiting to see her King's tufted purple plume

amongst the crowd in the courtyard.

The army ready for battle.Armor clanks, horses neigh.

The plume appears, all goes quiet. The stillness so deep.

The heat is stiffling as the fires burn at the gates.

The Enemy is going to make their move soon.

Seige engines at the ready, bows flexed to let fly.

listen to the heart beats of a thousand men.

The war horns blow now, the war cry arises.

She sits in her tower watching her love lead the charge.

The gates swing open, arrows start to fly.

The battle is joined. Say a prayer for those about to die.

Watching and waiting to see what develops.

Will this day bring victory to her King or death?

News comes late in the day, the purple is tattered and bloody.

The cheering is so great the walls tremble, Victory for our King!

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