While I COULD wile away the hours here, for your sake I won’t. Why? Because I actually DO have a brain!
But, the prompt did ask what three objects I couldn’t live without. Well, the first thing that came to mind was my brain. Without a brain, which is the central nervous system for this flesh mech, I, just like the scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz, would simply hang limp on a pole in a corn field.
The second object that’s a must-have for survival, again, can be answered by one of the characters from that old movie, The Wizard of Oz. Remember the Tin Man? Without a heart to pump blood throughout the body, nourishing all of the precious organs that make us flux an flow, we would simply break down, shrivel up and cease to exist!
While I realize you were expecting me to call up the cowardly Lion for my third object needed, I think his courage actually came from his heart, so those two sort of go hand in hand, in my humble opinion. I’m going to call upon our beloved Dorothy… and her little dog too!
What is this thing that I am eluding too? Lungs! How on earth would Dorothy, or Toto for that matter, be a proper example of lungs, you may be asking? Judy Garland, who played the role of Dorothy, had an amazing singing voice, did she not? And, Toto had the ability to bark, which he did a great amount of, in order to protect and save the group of adventurers on several occasions. I am pretty confident in thinking that they both had a decent set of pipes!
Don’t ask me why The Wizard of Oz was the first thing that popped into my head when I read this mornings Daily Prompt question… I’ve no earthly idea.
But, you do have to admit that it worked pretty well. And, I’m being fully honest in choosing a brain, a heart and lungs as the three objects I couldn’t live without. I’m fairly certain that none of us would get along without them, don’t you agree?
In truth, I can get along without every other earthly object if it came down to brass tacks, as they say.
Here, have an apple. I promise, the trees won’t throw them at you…
You know that feeling you get when stepping off of a moving object? That feeling of unsteadiness, while your brain tries to stop things from moving, so that you can stand upright. Or, maybe you’ve played that crazy game, where you spin yourself around and then try to run a sack race, or something of that nature.
Some folks feel dizzy, while others may feel a bit queasy. I have decided to label this feeling as being discombobulated. I am striving to become a Word Smith, you know.
While it is a rather big word, sometimes those other words just don’t do justice to the depth and meaning of what you’re experiencing. Being that I am quite small, and I also feel both dizzy and queasy on this ride, little words just don’t feel as fitting as discombobulated. Why is that?
Well, let’s ask at Mr. McGoogle about our word of the week…
AI Overview
Discombobulated is an informal American English adjective meaning completely confused, frustrated, upset, or disorganized. It describes a state of being thrown off-kilter, bewildered, or severely disoriented. The term originated in the early 19th century as a playful, nonsensical variant of words like “discompose”.
Key details about “discombobulated”:
Pronunciation: Dis-com-bob-u-lay-ted (stress on “bob”).
Usage Examples: “I felt totally discombobulated after the long flight”; “The speaker was discombobulated by the hecklers”.
Context: It is often used to describe a, mental state of confusion or a situation that is in disarray.
I suppose that one wouldn’t use this word as a descriptor, if they actually enjoyed being spun around in circles, clinging to anything that might keep them from being catapulted off the ride. Ummmmm…. duh! I’m an ant! If I get tossed off the ride, things get pretty painful, if you know what I mean. The only successful flight I’ve ever taken was on that floating Dandelion, remember?
My next thought, or question, if you will, is to wonder what-if about those times where the ride doesn’t make you feel queasy. What do we call those times where the dizziness and tummy flip-flops bring forth excitement, happiness, and joy? Let’s ask…
AI Overview
Discombobulated means to be confused, frustrated, or upset. It describes a state of being unsettled, scattered, or not fully coherent. Its opposites include terms that signify being calm, organized, and focused, such as composed, organized, calm, clearheaded, or collected.
Top Antonyms (Opposites):
Composed/Calm/Collected: Remaining steady and unruffled.
Organized/Systematic: Having things in order, as opposed to scattered.
Clearheaded/Focused: Able to think clearly.
Oriented: Knowing where you are and what is happening.
Level-headed: Being in control and rational.
Note: While “combobulate” is sometimes used humorously, it is not considered a formal, standard English word.
Well, that’s rude!
The English language has rules, exceptions, and uses for making valid counter words for things like Famous, and Infamous, remember?! And now they say that combobulate can’t be used as an actual counter word… rubish!
I, Lilly, the flying journalist, shall now dub our positive counter word to be Probobulated!
Wiwohka Overview
Probobulated – means to be happily surrendered, freely un-frustrated, and miles away from agitated. The word signifies composure, organization, calmness, clear-headedness, and/or being collected. It describes a state of being moldable, softened, and full of faith. It’s opposites include terms that signify confusion, frustration, or being upset.
I wonder how hard it would be to convince Merriam-Webster to accept my new word? Perhaps if a few of you suggested it, as well as myself, we might just enact some future changes for the betterment of all mankind.
Why not?
It could happen, you know. We just need to science it out, first.
The most precious time in my journey, hands down, was having and raising my three daughters when they were babies!
Don’t get me wrong, I carry their older years in my heart as well, but the baby phase was the most difficult to leave behind.
The doctors said I would never conceive … and if I did, I would not be able to carry a baby to full term, due to my medical history. I had a great many difficulties in my young life, of which, now is not the time or place to go into in any great detail. I will simply say that babies were not supposed to be in my future!
I became pregnant 8 times, losing 5 in order to have the three that I did carry to full term. The sicker I was, the better, because I knew my body was holding on to the pregnancy. I relished every bit of morning sickness, every stretch mark, crazy cravings and chubby pounds I gained.
My first daughter didn’t want to exit the building, forcing the doctor to induce my labor 2 full weeks after my due date… she is my stubborn Drama Queen, to this day!
My second daughter and I both nearly died in childbirth, as my placenta ruptured prematurely, causing an emergency Caesarian section. She was born 2 weeks early and still weighed in at 8 lbs. 6 oz. when she arrived. She was a very fussy baby, being dubbed Kaitlungs… though, to this day, she’s the quietest and most reserved daughter of all three!
My third daughter was the easiest pregnancy, easiest delivery, and tiniest of the three… born 2 weeks early and weighing in at a solid 8 lbs. She literally shot out and landed in my doctors arms, being dubbed the surfing baby! She is most like me, of all my girls… just as strong minded, sassy and bright!
It was after her delivery that my doctor said, no more pregnancies … the risk was just too great for me to continue having babies. Thus, my season of bearing children had finally come to an end.
You may scoff, but I miss every detail of those years… every sleepless night, every tantrum, every band-aid handed out! I miss nursing my babies, changing their diapers, cuddling and rocking them gently, while they slept in my arms.
If I could, I would have bottled up and saved the smell of their breath, their skin… their hair!
If only I had made recordings of their laughter, cries, shouts, whispers and bickering… oh well, no more woulda coulda shoulda, in that regard!
I did make journals for each of them, with letters and stories of things they did and said, that I have saved all these years… I tried so hard to plan ahead, knowing that memories fade and things can so easily be forgotten over time.
Thank goodness I did that, because even if I had to say goodbye to that phase, I can easily go back through those books and memories, remembering and cherishing them over and over. Who knows, maybe one day my daughters will want those books to read with their children… maybe not. I’m still glad I dreamt of them, birthed them, raised them, and wrote things down for them… that way it’s not really goodbye to that phase, is it? My blood runs through their veins… they will always be my babies… and I will forever be their mother!
It’s been an unusual week, to say the least. Things seemed normal, at first. We had our annual inspection of the apartment which went fine, and didn’t last longer than about 5 minutes. I think they’re actually wanting to just make sure we weren’t trashing their property. After living here for the last year, I can fully understand why.
Not fifteen minutes after the inspection ended, someone on the fourth floor decided to light the garbage room on fire, setting off the entire floor’s fire suppression ceiling faucets, thereby drenching every apartment below, and nearby. We had responders crawling all over the building, and water flowing freely from light fixtures, as well as power outlets. Needless to say, we pulled all our computers free of any plugins… and then waited for the water to stop.
Eventually we stopped leaking everywhere, but it took a full two days of de-humidifiers humming nonstop in all the hallways, to help the drying process. We are still waiting for maintenance to get to us, in order to replace the bad light fixtures and outlets that were affected by the water. Thankfully, we really didn’t have any damage to our personal belongings, but it did scare me enough to do an updated triple back-up of all my literary and illustration work. There’s far too much material to just do over again, before I’m ever even able to submit them to someone for publishing.
That last word, publishing, has me headed to the next issue I’ve been mulling over… trying to produce a manuscript that might rival all those new fangled ai editing and content creating applications. We now have to compete with computer generated books. I woke this morning to a commercial offering a program that will write all your ebooks for you from start to finish… it’s kind of sickening to me, if I’m to be honest.
If everyone is filling their carts with no-brainer e-books, what are us real authors left to work with? How on earth am I to get these books into readers hands, if they don’t care to look beyond their little electronic brain suckers?
I feel truly sad for all those amazing and fantastic authors out there, who slaved away to create such beautiful works of art, in literary form. They were the real trailblazers for most of us wordsmiths, and they didn’t need a smart phone to do it! Will anyone ever put proper guidelines, rules, and stipulations to how much we should use a computer to do our thinking, talking, acting, singing, writing, and surviving this world. Guess what folks? A computer is only meant for housing usable information for us to access when necessary, but the computer doesn’t think, feel, or have any awareness of itself, beyond what someone programmed it to believe.
Sorry, but that commercial really rubbed me the wrong way. I don’t disagree with the helpful usability that modern technology affords us, including some areas of ai technology. The problem I have is the lemming mentality that much of society has begun to propagate. That means when one person jumps in a particular direction, and everyone in their proximity chooses to jump along with them, just so as not to be left behind.
Seriously, are we in that much of a hurry to dumb ourselves down, and allow government, news media, and most of TikTok to regulate how we think, act, and behave? No Thanks!
Anyway, now that I got that off my chest, how about we all celebrate the end of the work week, yaaaayyyyyyyyyyy! Gooooo Frrrriiiidddaaaayyyyy!!!!!
I shall now head into an Icarus adventure, donning my high powered Sniper Rifle, and collecting my pack of wolves, in order to do some hunting for our prospecting crew. Have no fear… my puppies will keep me safe. Plus, I ride an arctic Moa named Kevin. If he doesn’t like you, he’ll swing his neck and smack you with his head. It’s rather unpleasant for whatever predator thought he’d be an easy meal.
I don’t desire to actually look like Mary Poppins, nor am I dreaming of being a Nanny to any child in particular.
To be the woman who could travel by umbrella, I could go anywhere… but that’s not it!
To be able to pop in and out of paintings, allowing me to travel through space and time to visit places I would otherwise never visit… nope, not that either!
For just one day, I would absolutely love to be Mary Poppins, in order to use her magical bag! You know, that carpet bag that could pull out any sort of useful or magical item I might need at the moment. The things I could do with that bag, even if it were only for the time stipulated by the daily prompt.
Just within walking distance of my RV, there are so many things I could use that bag for… like feeding the homeless I see walking around, or going door to door looking for things to hand people, hoping to lighten their burdens and brighten their day. The bag could house money, food, clothes, toys, tools, and/or vitamins and medicines they might not be able to locate.
But it’s more than just using the bag for things… no no… it is the freedom to give, that the bag offers! You see, Mary Poppins took the bag with her everywhere she went. Whatever was inside the bag needed to be taken to where it belonged. Mary Poppins never sent things in her bag through the mail… she always did the foot work herself… or the umbrella travel… or the horse racing… or the tea time on the ceiling… see?
I don’t need Mary Poppins magical loving heart, as I’ve got a real one that offers its own sort of magic… I just need the bag for the day.
As a parent, we all know that when your kids are not making noise, it never bodes well! When it gets silent… we usually go looking for the noise makers that are now abnormally quiet!
Not my parents… no no… somehow, they were never really concerned about where we were, or what we were doing. Due to this lack of supervision, we tended to get into trouble.
Some time ago, I shared a funny story about how we let nearly 2 dozen baby mice loose in the house by accident, only to have my mother discover the mass graveyard in between the cushions of her favorite couch, some months later!
There was also the time when I was riding on the back of my brothers bike and he nearly decapitated me while trying to cut through a trailer park that had one of those steel cords strung across the driveway! Try explaining the burn mark to my parents… there aren’t many believable stories to cover over what looked like an attempted murder.
Then there was the time we tied helium balloons around our cats tails and they tore through the house in terror, knocking over anything that wasn’t nailed down… that was a crazy mess! We hadn’t thought about how hard it would be, recapturing the the little fur balls, in order to remove said balloons.
Anyway, I think you can see a picture developing in your minds, as to how unsupervised we were, thereby providing ample time for one of our best DIY projects!
My brother was about 9 and I was barely 7, when we came up with an idea to build a fort, but not just any fort… we needed a secret one! The problem lay in the fact that we lived in Eastern Oregon… hot, dry, and flat, with no trees available for making into forts!
What’s a kid going to do? If you can’t build up, then the logical thing to do is to build down… but where?
We decided among ourselves that the back yard seemed the best place to work, because no one went back there and it was easy to hear my mom call us in for dinner.
At first it was easy to cover the hole with the grass we had cut out for digging down underground, but eventually we had to steal a plank of wood to lay over the hole, covering that with the grass. We had nearly dug up against the foundation of the house, before anyone noticed the mounds of dirt we had been throwing willy nilly over the backyard fence.
Yup!
Got our hind ends paddled and the hole was caved in, refilled and the grass restored.
If you’re thinking that this was the end of our DIY ing… think again, my friends!
All true DIY ers know the golden rule… if you fail the first time… try, try again! And again, we did!
We simply moved our construction zone further out into the desert behind the neighborhood we lived in at the time.
First, we set to work digging down nearly 6 feet, carving out steps for us to climb up and down out of the hole. From there we dug straight in nearly 15 feet before carving out a hobbit house sized hole under the desert above us. We took the dirt from the hole and spread it all over the area nearby, so that there would be no mounds to be seen by spying eyes; lessons had been learned from our first attempt. We spent nearly a week sneaking blankets, toys, food and water from our home, to stock our new underground bunker.
It wasn’t until my brother got a spanking for stealing candy out of the cupboard, and angrily running away to hide in the tunnel, that anybody had any reason to go looking for our hideaway. All the grown-ups cornered me and questioned if I knew where he was, scaring me into giving up the coordinates of our outlaw camp… the gig was up!
It was a good thing that we were in the heat of summer, when there was no rain to fill the hole and drown us, or worse yet, cave in on us. I will never forget the look of shock, surprise, fear, and awe on my stepdads face as he climbed 6 feet down into our DIY creation. He was both impressed and terrified at what we’d managed to do without accidentally killing ourselves. But he also never trusted us again, regularly patrolling the property and surrounding areas, and locking up all of his tools!
What can I say… if I’m gonna DIY something, I say, “go big or go home!”
What a silly question to ask me? Six months is a long ways from here, so I really can’t tell you what challenges I’ll be facing, as I don’t fully know what they are yet!
Until such a time as I actually have a challenge worthy of bringing up to everyone, you’ll just have to make do with my stories, antics, ditties, and pity party shout outs… sorry. Don’t take my response as one of sarcasm, or even one that takes challenges lightly. If you know anything about my story, you know that I’ve had my share of challenges over the last several years. By no means do I think this prompt is a bad one, but it’s just not one I wish to dwell on.
I can imagine that there will be a large number of responses to the prompt, regarding other’s upcoming challenges, some good, and some quite difficult. For all of you, my heart goes out to you, as well as my prayers and well wishes for success in these challenges. I pray that you’ll be a go getter, tenacious, and dedicated. If I’m not going to share my challenges, the least I can do is support you in all of yours, right?!
Actually, if I had to come up with an answer for this prompt, I could talk about baking. Every morning I make you virtual cookies, and since they were a bit of a chore to create without adding in any calories, we can use that task as one of the challenges I’m facing.
If you think about it, I suppose that virtual cookie baking will still be one of my bigger challenges six months from now. That is, unless they come out with those food replicators that Star Trek always had. A girl can dream, can’t she?
You thought Mary Poppins came up with the most nonsensical, and difficult word to say out loud. I beg to differ!
While Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious might take us on a fabulous carousel ride, this next word will take us for a somewhat different journey. What is this word in which I speak? Let me check google for the correct spelling, as it’s a doozey!
Juxtaposition!
Personally, I find it easier to remember the song by Julie Andrews about her super word, comparatively. At least she used a great song to help remember how it’s pronounced! Unfortunately for both words, breaking things down to each’s roots can be a fantastical journey, in and of itself! But, as I’m a staunch supporter of the English language, no matter how ludicrous it may seem, I shall press on for all our sakes!
the fact of two things being seen or placed close together with contrasting effect.”the juxtaposition of these two images”
So, the definition’s great and all, but I wonder where it originated from? Here’s something that makes me laugh. We are reading, writing, and speaking an English word that originated from two differing languages, neither coming from our home land.
Juxta comes from Latin, and position comes from the French… go figure!
So, in order to speak in English form correctly, apparently, one must first pilfer all it’s bits and pieces from other languages. The whole robbing Peter to pay Paul thing, I surmise. Maybe that’s the reason English is such a complicated language, with all sorts of rules, exceptions, and spelling bonanzas, but I’m only speculating.
For the last several days, I’ve been attempting to find uses for this extravagant word, in replacement of simpler terms. Not only is it rather stupid, as very few people even use it nowadays, but it just seems over lengthy for no apparent reason.
Why can’t we keep things simple?
Just say, “Hey, those two things are different” verses the alternative…
“The juxtaposition of two such facts seemed to me auspicious. The juxtaposition of those two is comprehensible. The juxtaposition of the two names was probably not accidental. The juxtaposition of the two items suggested a programming muddle.
It seems to me that they added more big words, with each passing sentence. Great! Now we have to look up auspicious and comprehensible, as well. Nope!
Until somebody can come up with songs for all these fancy words, I’m sticking with my favorite Mary Poppins word!
I can hardly believe that it’s been over two years since Barnyard Business began. So many changes have occurred in the lives of our little babes, with some changes being bigger than others.
Time waits for no man, as they say, and in terms of barnyard life, it couldn’t be more apparent! I wanted to share a big change that’s coming to the barn, but while looking through the old photo albums, I found myself lost down memory lane… in a good way.
Sometimes it just feels good to look back.
I’ll admit that it’s a mixture of bitter and sweet, realizing how much all the babes have grown, and reminding myself that they can’t remain the same forever. I know that I’m certainly not who I was two years ago. I cant expect them to stay babies, nor can I treat them as such.
You try bossing a two ton dragon around. Let’s see how far you get!
Remember when Brutus was just a baby?
He’s far from a baby now…
I could spend hours looking back over their baby photos! Why can’t they stay babies forever, though?
I do actually have an answer to that last question. The babes have grown and changed because I have, as well. Within my imagination and dreams, the babes don’t stay the same… they can’t. With each and every adventure I write about, all the creatures within the barnyard grow a bit, depending on the lessons learned, if that makes any sense.
I never expected to become so attached to these wonderful creatures, nor did I plan their paths out for them, as you may have thought. What I see in them, and write of them, is fully dependent on the way my journey affects my perspective. I shouldn’t feel so surprised when I compare their mature images with their baby ones. I still recognize the baby in them, though they appear far different on the surface.
If I hadn’t have had those dark days of struggle, I may never have imagined Nugget. Remember our little guy from my bedside table drawer?
He’s still in residence, but doesn’t sleep in the drawer much. He prefers to sleep on my pillow, just behind my head. Fortunately for me, this little guy seems immune to aging, in much the same way as our little Dinky Do.
I think characters like Dinky, Boomer, and all those Twilight Dreamers will always be my safe space, my comfort zone. Maybe my anxiety is just a bit more manageable with these little ones. Who knows, right?!
Now Eustace… he’s quite a camel!
But, as much as I loved looking back at his baby pics…
I simply adore the adult camel that he’s become, don’t you?
You’re probably wondering what’s got me all nostalgic and melancholy, so I’ll fill you in on the changes occurring at the Barnyard, and those to come.
It’s been a difficult winter for most of the residents in the barn, as miss Tilly has moved down to the church, where Henry has taken on the roll of pastor. His father was quite aged, and far too old to perform his pastoral duties any longer.
While I realize that she’s got a whole new life ahead of her with young Henry, it hasn’t been so easy explaining things to the babes, if I can still even call them that. Tilly was like a favored auntie, always caring for them, feeding them, and tucking them in each night… I try to do it, but I’m just not her!
Slowly, but surely, they’re coming to accept her absence. Both Boomer and Brutus have helped immensely, in this regard. While Dinky remains small, with only the mind of a child, her brother has begun to grow, and has taken up the roll of caregiver for the others. While Boomer cares for the babes food and bedtime routines, Brutus has been frequently taking them to visit Henry and Tilly, down at the church.
Things are about to change, once more.
Our Miss Tilly, or more aptly referred to as Mrs. Tilly Munster, is expecting her first baby, or possibly babies.
We won’t know how many babies, til the big day arrives. Tilly isn’t due til the end of March, but her belly looks as if she could deliver next week!
We’re all very excited about the newest change, as the babes are now all practicing the art of babysitting, in hopes that Tilly will call on us to help out.
I must admit that the excitement is very contagious! I’ve already added a crib to SugarPlum’s bedroom, just in case. I can’t help but get excited along with all the babes, but it’s so hard to imagine our Tilly having a baby of her own.
I still see the wee little thing that Santa dropped in my Christmas satchel, two years ago. It seems like only yesterday…
From that tiny little ball of love, came the Tilly that we’ve watched grow up…
Time for a bath…
She began changing overnight, it seemed…
Then love found our young mouse maid, in the form of young Henry…
The beautiful thing about our small ones growing up and finding their own way is that we must have done something right. While I can’t take credit for how wonderful Tilly turned out to be, I would like to think that I played some small part in who she is now. Who knows?
So here’s the fun part! We get to throw Tilly her first baby shower, and I want to make it something special. For that, I’ll need some help with ideas for gifts and decorations.
If anyone wants to suggest some things, I’ll bake virtual cookies, in trade.
No worries about thinking things up right this second, as the shower is still several weeks away. I don’t want to wait too long, however, as she might deliver early. You know how babies can be. They seldom operate during normal people hours…
At this present moment, my most favorite person to be around is my newest granddaughter, but I’m being partial, I realize.
Truthfully, though, I wouldn’t say that I necessarily have names of people on a list that I’d prefer to be around. I generally love to be around anyone desiring fellowship, needing encouragement, or especially those in need of prayer.
Society currently seems to be buried in their smart phones, completely oblivious to everyone and every thing around them. Nobody holds a door open, or even acknowledges when someone holds it for them. And, there’s little to no eye contact. Get in, get what you need, and get out! Don’t make any sudden movements, or hold eye contact for any length of time, with anyone!
I think the problem stems from many differing sources, and I’ve not the time nor energy to spell them all out. What I do know is that there are indeed those still out there, somewhere, in dire need of love, tenderness, forgiveness, human touch, and guidance.
If you’ve not noticed any hungry eyes near you, then maybe you’ve stopped looking.
I realize how much easier it would be to turn to familiar, and safe favorite people, but perhaps we’ve been called to do much more. What if that’s where the problem lies, deep in the heart of man. Our natural bent is toward self… self-preservation, self-esteem, self-love, and self, self, self! I’m not even off the hook, here.
Having a generous heart is taught, contrary to what some may believe. No one is born with a benevolent heart, even if I think my SugarPlum is perfect in every way! She’ll need to be shown, hopefully, by the village of family that surrounds her on every side.
Perhaps, if more of those villages start popping up, society might have a chance at becoming better than we are, thus far. Just sayin.
Journey With Me! 