Well, I must admit that Eustace has done an outstanding job on the installing of our ship’s new baby cabin.
The only problem is, where to put the baby. Eustace put so many stuffed camels in the room, we’ll be lucky to get her into the crib. The silly camel is so proud of how the room turned out, I don’t have the heart to tell him we need to tone it down on the plushie bonanza!
Happy Wednesday, everyone.
Hugs
Obsession was hardly the word for it! More like consumed, I think. For this little girl, anything to do with horses was where all the fun existed.
I was born and raised on a farm in Oregon, and was surrounded by all manner of farm animals from dawn til dusk. My mamma had me on horseback when I was still in diapers. Our family were avid hunters, so we were most often trail blazing up into some mountain range, or another, in search of good hunting grounds. Since it was easy to lose little ones in the middle of the woods, we were assigned to horseback for the majority of the trail passages. It was just what we did back then, as far as I remember.
When at school, my best friend and I would use our jump ropes and pretend to ride horses around the playground, during recess and lunchtime.
I watched every John Wayne Western, with rapt attention, as well as every other western movie or television show. The original Black Beauty movie was my go-to, along with any other show that featured horses.
My first horse was a paint pony that we named Candy, and I loved her like she was the only horse on the planet! We couldn’t afford a saddle for her, so I rode bareback all the time. It wasn’t a problem since she was as round as a bouncy ball. She was also not very tall at all, so when she bucked me off, it wasn’t far to fall.
Our farm boasted about 250 acres of cattle pasture, so my favorite Saturday activity was to ride the range, as they called it. The fence-line actually had several ranch hand shacks out along the back of our land, which I loved to visit. If I fell off my pony, I could just walk her up to the fence, and then climb back up that way.
My mother would pack us lunches, and my brother and I would take our horses and chase each other around the fields. The best part was pretending to shoot each other and falling off into the large piles of drying hay that lay randomly about the pasture. Those were the days.
My love of horses didn’t end there, though. Eventually, after years of riding whenever I got the chance, I landed a job as a ranch hand/babysitter for a friend of the family. I lived in a renovated tack room, out in the horse stables. I learned how to ride properly, both in Western and English style, as well as all the rest that went into training, breeding, and complete equine husbandry.
From the stables of a horse ranch, to the mountainous meadows of an all girls Christian Horse Camp, if horses were involved… I was all in!
As the years passed, and children arrived, my time was no longer my own. Though I wasn’t able to pursue more horsemanship type careers, I did raise my girls up in the same fashion that my mom did for my childhood. My girls were on horseback from diapers on, and we frequently enjoyed camping, fishing, and hiking with horses. We even spent three summers at a dude ranch in Idaho, riding horses all over the Sawtooth Mountain Range.
It’s been at least 15 years since I sat in the saddle, unless you want to count the numerous hours of computer games that require you to ride a mount. Age, and arthritis, finally caught up with this girl from the farm. My knees, my back, and my neck, have all paid the price of happiness.
While I might not be able to ride horses any more, it has never lessened my love and passion for the beautiful creatures.
Cookie?
The Wharf…
Episode V
Keeping the baby in her room that first night wasn’t all that difficult, as the tiny creatures satisfied himself with snuggling into Maiyah’s favorite pillow, and sleeping the night away. Most likely, the little creature hadn’t slept much while hiding in the fish shed. She assumed he’d been there for at least two or three days, before she was able to lure him out from behind the old fish barrel.
Once they’d safely made it to her room, he simply crawled up onto her bed and fell fast asleep. It was a good thing that he was so tired. Maiyah had a days’ worth of choring to catch up on, before anyone were the wiser.
Quickly clearing the dishes from the tables, she set about getting them washed, dried and put away before Ollie made his way down from his room. The orc ran the tavern into the wee hours of the morning, so he rarely woke before the noon hour. This gave her time to catch up on the dishes that waited for her, within the kitchen.
Once the dishes were clean, Maiyah slipped up the tavern’s back stairs to check on the little one. Opening her bedroom door, she was appalled at the scene awaiting her arrival…
The tiny little monster had somehow chewed through one of her bedposts, made a mess of all her clothing, and was happily gnawing on one of her shoes. Apparently, the baby was teething something fierce!
There was nothing she could do about the mess til her shift ended, so Maiyah retrieved the broken wood, but left the baby happily chewing on her favorite boot. Perhaps Ollie would replace her ruined things, once she handed him the baby. One could always hope for the orc to have an understanding nature, though she had her doubts.
That day would not be one to approach the orc, as she’d seen what a mess had befallen the tavern on the previous night. Ollie was forced to break up numerous brawls, and finally had to close the tavern, just to clear out the drunken offenders and mop up all the spilled ale. It had been a costly night for the orc…
Ollie went to bed very angry, if all the mess and broken furnishings weren’t enough evidence.
Maiyah would have to wait at least another day, or two. It usually took the orc time to regain his composure after losing his temper. She would manage the little boot chewer a bit longer, for Ollie’s sake.
Returning to her chores, Maiyah made one last sweep of the kitchen and dining area, before Ollie came down. Assured that nothing was amiss, she headed out behind the tavern to finish the days washing…
With laundry washed, and hung out to dry, Maiyah made her way inside to help serve the lunch crowd that were already filling the tavern’s tables. Once the customers began exiting, she quickly cleared their plates, making sure to stuff any leftover food into her apron. It was less likely that anyone would notice food disappearing, this way. She could simply pick up a few edible bits from off the plates she cleared, here and there. The scraps would have otherwise been thrown out, anyway.
When she returned to her room that afternoon, she cleaned up the mess made by the baby and repaired her half eaten bed post. The baby sat on the floor, happily eating the food she’d managed to pilfer from the dining room. Once full, the baby began to yawn, and then settled down into a pile of clothing in the corner of the room…
Watching the baby drift of to sleep, softly murmuring to himself, Maiyah considered what her options were. Though he was adorable and sweet, she would run herself ragged if she were to try keeping him hidden in her room, much longer. She was only one person, and it wouldn’t do to simply let the baby crawl around her room, unattended, for all the hours of the day, while she was working. She would give it one more day.
One more day came, and then went. Yet another fight broke out that night, just as the night before…
And, again, Ollie had to break up the fight. Once more, the tavern had to be closed, repaired, and mopped up.
And, another day came and went…
Maiyah was beginning to think that there was never going to be a favorable moment to tell Ollie about his son…
It had been a full week of drunken brawls, broken tables, and shattered kegs of valuable ale. To live upon the wharf, one had to be accustomed to violence and chaos, nearly every day. It hadn’t been Maiyah’s choice to work in a tavern, but it had been Ollie’s choice in the owning and running of said establishment. The orc would have to be given the letter soon, along with handing over Brugo, the grumpy orc’s own responsibility.
Knowing it was time to reveal the baby was one thing, but knowing how to do it was another thing, all together. Maiyah couldn’t just slap the letter on the bar and fling the baby at Ollie. If she wanted to do the right thing, and keep her job, diplomacy was definitely in order.
Should she give Ollie the baby first, or the letter?
What’s in the letter, aside from telling Ollie that the baby is his?
And, where is Brugo’s mother?
You know, it’s been some time since we’ve really worked with Squagon’s images. The OpenArt upgrades arrived, and I got totally sidetracked with all the new bells and whistles.
It’s time we went back and worked on our favorite flying squirrel. The upcoming summer events will be requiring a good many images of our intrepid squirrel/pirate, as he’ll be the focus of our crew’s adventurous expeditions.
While I can’t really tell you what those adventures are, as of yet, you can certainly help me pull up some images that we’ll all love seeing, once we set sail. Don’t worry. I won’t leave anyone at the docks. I give my solemn oath!
Anyway, let’s see what we can come up with for our fun loving, flying furball…
If you hadn’t noticed the problem yet, let me fill you in… his tail looks pitiful! Let me see if I can fix that…
Good grief! All I did was ask the ai to make his tail much fluffier than it was, but things got a bit out of hand. Let’s adjust our request to say make his tail somewhat fluffier…
The reason I’m showing you these images is to reflect the sensitivity of OpenArt’s new chat editing feature. Sometimes Norbert, as I call him, likes to take an idea and run with it, often ending in disastrous results. At other times, if I use the right wording or the image is simple enough to fix, this new feature works out rather well. I’m not saying that I want to use this image, but it gives me a bit more confidence about some of the finer adjustments needed, if I want to perfect certain scenes.
Do you notice how the image feels somewhat photorealistic, while still having a bit of that whimsical softness. I think it brings Squagon more depth of personality vs. an actual image of a squirrel. I’m able to give him an endearing quality that reaches deeper than just a plain old, backyard peanut thief! What do you think?
Honestly, I think it has more to do with the program understanding my query, than it does about my skills as an artist. I am a writer, not a painter, nor sculptor, nor full-time national geographic photojournalist, though I may have done well as a traveling writer. The only way I can communicate with any of you is through my literary donations, here on WordPress. For that, I need the help of an art platform that can assist me in portraying a thought, memory, or imaginative tale. I want you to see what I see, which can be tricky when using an artificial form of images.
The thing to remember is this… the program only as good as the one using it. It’s an artificial means of creating images from words, nothing more. The ai doesn’t think for itself, nor you, for that matter. It simply responds to a pre-written set of words, and it holds a memory bank of definitions for those words, phrases, and sentence structures.
Normally, I will start with a simple descriptive sentence. I offer the ai a character image, a brief visual descriptor, and an action to perform. On occasion, this first request provides a usable image. However, for most of what I do, the program offers an ai assisted expansion of the original request. I like to use these extra helps because many times its not what you ask, but how you ask it.
For instance, when I ask the ai for Squagon sitting on a bale of hay, this is the first response from the ai:
Now, I’ll ask for the ai to assist with the query. This was the result,
A photorealistic image of @MySquagon perched atop a golden bale of hay in a rustic barn setting, natural afternoon sunlight streaming through weathered wooden slats, casting warm amber highlights across the textured straw and creating soft dappled shadows on the worn plank floor, the hay bale’s compressed wheat stalks visible in detailed layers, dust motes floating lazily in the sunbeams, aged timber walls with peeling paint in the background, the character resting naturally with balanced posture against the organic texture of the dried grass.
These were the images offered from the enhanced prompt:
In this situation, I much prefer the first image over the assisted one. It captures much more of his personality, and looks more realistic. Sometimes the ai assist works out better, and sometimes not. It all depends on what I am asking the ai to do with the character. The action will always play heavily into the image’s final features.
For Squagon, I think we shouldn’t have too many obstacles along the way, but it was better to be safe than sorry. I wanted to do some work with the little guy before summer expeditions get underway. I like to be prepared for any and all perceived hang ups and/or roadblocks to a successful sailing season. You’ll thank me for it later, I can assure you.
Well, that’s all for today’s tinkering session. I think we got a lot of things figured out for now, and big or small, they all will help to get us where we were headed, right?!
May your writing hold true, and your words make a difference to the world…
Hugs
Now that we’re back aboard The Torrent, I’ve set about reading through some of the books in Wiwohka’s office.
If there are things we’re needing to know while at sea, I need to be able to read these old books. More than just reading them, though. I’ll need a better understanding of many older terms and phrases than we’re used to reading in modern writings. I’m not just talking about all the thee’s, thou’s, or hence forth, and such. Those are easy enough to adjust to while doing my reading, but I get derailed every time I come across words I’ve never before seen used. Thus far, much of my reading has been from current publications that come across the desk. Nothing in all that will be useful in deciphering old maritime maps, scrolls, and letters from abroad.
I know Wiwohka says she doesn’t need my help in all this, but who am I, if not for a literary entrepreneur, right?!
So, how does one become more familiar with the wide world of words? Why we use the good ole World Wide Web, of course!
Where to start our educational search, is the first question to ask. Well, I simply went to Mr. McGoogle and typed this:
“Unique and unused words in the English language”
And so it has begun…
According to Google’s AI overview,
These unique and rarely used English words are often prized for their specificity, evocative sounds, or niche meanings, ranging from poetic descriptions to obsolete, humorous terms.
Unique Words for Specific Moments
**I used the internet to create appropriate sentences**
One must take a word by it’s meaning and then re-create it in a usable fashion, right? Let’s see how I do…
The early mornings apricity felt pleasant on her skin, as she made her way across the snowy expanse.
I know, a rather long-winded sentence for making the meaning clear enough to understand. I have much work ahead.
The air was thick with petrichor as the storm broke, rejuvenating the parched earth.
I guess it’s a decent enough word, though I might just as easily have said that it smells fresh after the first rain of the season. Oh well, one must broaden their vocabulary if they wish to become wiser.
The only sound in the forest was the soft psithurism of Autumn leaves.
Why do we have to make things so complicated, I wonder. I would just say that I could hear the sound of the wind in the trees. In truth, it takes longer just to make sure that I spell the word correctly.
She felt a quiet sonder watching the commuters, wondering about the hidden stories behind every stranger’s face.
I don’t know that I shall ever find need of this particular word, but you never knows when I might come across it in one of these old books.
Against all odds, the unexpected rescue felt like a total eucatastrophe to the stranded hikers.
While I wouldn’t exactly find a use for this word, it’s easy enough to understand the meaning if one already knows what a catastrophe is.
Sarah experienced limerence for her new coworker, finding herself constantly daydreaming about him.
Can’t we just say she had a crush on him? So much easier to say, although it’s understandable that no one would understand my meaning, unless they were already familiar with my choice of words.
This last one’s easy, and I don’t even need the internet’s help with the sentence…
When she rubbed her tired eyes, she saw phosphene’s.
Everyone is familiar with seeing stars, right?! I’m so glad that at least one of these words seems easy enough to remember, and not so hard to write down, either.
Just wait! You’ll see. Before you know it, I shall become one of the most renowned seafaring journalists in all the seas, with none matching my literary prowess! Well, it could happen, you know. We’ll never know unless we try, right?!
While most of the world may have adapted to communicating their ever-changing emotional states, by simply selecting any one of a number of prefabricated symbols, I have NOT mastered this particular skill.
Not only am I unable to assign myself the correct cartoon symbols, at any given moment, but when I do attempt using emojis, they’re so tiny that I often pick something that doesn’t have anything to do with what I meant, in the first place.
Honestly, if I want to display my thoughts and feelings with a cellphone, I’d much rather just call you to say it out loud. Even better, I’ll write my feelings out in actual words.
While I know that we live in a day that requires we do things at a much faster pace, than we did back in the day, I refuse to be rushed into communicating with others. So much gets lost in translation, if we aren’t fully paying attention to those we communicate with.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Some of the emojis out there are actually cute and funny. The problem arises when one uses them to complete the whole conversation. I get lost on a sea of smiley lips and exclamation marks, and usually miss the meaning of the message, entirely.
Don’t expect to receive any long list of tiny cartoon images from this writer. Though I may not be well versed in the emoji department, I can bake a decent batch of virtual calorie-free cookies. Of these, I do have my favorites…
Chocolate Chip are always a fan favorite!
I do love putting frosting on things…
My favorite, however, are those buttery shortbread cookies…
I pulled this off of Google, by asking for any funny news stories…
In an unexpected turn of events on April 23, 2026, three baby rabbits became unlikely seafaring adventurers after stowing away in a container in Dundee, Scotland, and ending up 93 miles off the coast of Lincolnshire on a North Sea oil rig.
Here are the highlights of this “odd news” story:
The rescue charity praised the offshore crews for their “maximum effort” in caring for the intrepid trio during their accidental 22-hour ocean adventure.
All is well in the world of small creatures. That is, unless the bunnies were nefarious bandits, seeking new lands to conquer! In that case, we may need to form a delegation, of sorts, to govern the bands of wild naughty bunnies roaming the high seas, lol.
The Wharf
Episode IV
According to the note pinned to the hood of the baby’s coat, his name was Brugo. The name didn’t ring any bells for the young barmaid, but the name of his father stole her breath away.
The note claimed that the child belonged to Ollie, the tavern’s owner!
Maiyah was shocked, to say the least, as she’d rarely ever seen the grumpy orc with a lady friend. And, those he spent time with didn’t stay long, what with his terrible temperament.
Niceness can only go so far with a lady, if the rest of your time is spent drinking, and carousing with the rest of the drunken sailors visiting the wharf. The orc lived a very lonely life, though he be surrounded by others. Maiyah thought maybe that was the reason for his being so grumpy all the time.
Looking down at the baby orc, Maiyah faced a huge dilemma. What to do with the baby, and what to do about the letter she now held.
If she were to take the baby straight away to his father, Ollie would surely send him away. He might even become angry enough to put Maiyah out on the street, just for being the one who brought him the baby. She wasn’t only worried about his reaction to the baby, but the note that came pinned to his coat.
Maiyah felt that it was wrong to read someone else’s letter, so once she saw the baby’s name she stopped reading the letter, and placed it in the pocket of her apron.
For the time being, all that Maiyah could think about was how she was going to sneak the baby into her room. Maybe if she waited for the right moment to talk to him, when the orc was in high spirits, she might lessen the shock of revealing the note, and the baby that came with it.
The important question was, how would she be able to keep a baby hidden in a place one was not meant for small ones. The adorable little beast would stand out like a beacon, from the moment she set foot inside the tavern’s doorway.
She knew she could safely navigate getting the baby in, simply by stuffing him in the bottom of a laundry basket, and then covering him with the clothes. That wouldn’t be the issue. What she worried over, was how to keep him hidden and quiet. What was she to do with him while she did her work, within the tavern. Ollie would surely notice her absence, as she never missed a single shift.
Well, she would have to figure things out as she went. Maiyah had never done something so reckless before, but needs must when one encountered something unexpected. Dipping into the kitchen, Maiyah retrieved a laundry basket and returned to the fish barrel, where the baby sat waiting.
He seemed quite happy to climb into the pile of soft clothing. Quickly, she pulled the laundry around and over him, to hide the little beast from spying eyes. No sense in being undone by a nosy tattle tail.
Once she’d safely made it up the back stairway to her room, she deposited the baby onto her bed. He just sat silently watching her, making no move to climb off the bed. Not knowing what else could be done at the moment, she offered the baby a biscuit, propped some blankets about his shoulders, and left him there. If she didn’t get downstairs to begin serving customers soon, Ollie would become suspicious. All she could do was pray that the baby would fall asleep, or something.
How will Maiyah keep the baby hidden, and for how long?
What will happen when she gives Ollie the letter?
And, what will become of little Brugo?
It’s Saturday morning, and the sun is shining brightly, here in the great Northwest.
Find your favorite project, your most enjoyable past time, or your favorite binge-worthy Netflix series… it’s Saturday, folks. I hope it’s sunny wherever you are, but either way, it’s still hopefully a play day.
Whether you’re working or playing, may you find joy in your day…
Hugs
Well… how else is a camel supposed to take a bath?
Journey With Me! 