Day four of posting random words and day two of this oppressively hot and humid Ontario summer weather. I know that I shouldn’t complain, because I complain enough during the winter months when it’s bitterly cold and I can no longer feel my fingertips, but complaining is one of my go-to past times, so here we are.
In keeping with the emerging darker theme of this week, today my trusty index finger landed on the word lecher. We’ve all used referred to one person or another as a lech from time to time, so we generally have a picture of what that means, but did we know that it’s related to the work lick? I, for one, did not. And also, ewwwww. One of the last words you want to read in the same sentence as lech or lecher is lick. Blech. Other than that, the origin is an interesting read.
Yesterday it occurred to me that to really make use of these random words, I should use each seven days worth of words to write a paragraph or short story at the end of each week. While I’m not certain how the next three days will go this week is already shaping up to have a humdinger of a paragraph. I’m almost looking forward to seeing what direction the words take when grouped together.
On a completely unrelated and irrelevant note, I just realized that I have the ability to sit perfectly still, at my desk, for far too many hours in a row. There is an endless stream of home/house/family administration work and various writing tasks to be done and my chair is comfy and my office is (mostly) clutter-free and quiet. But then images of DVT’s forming in my calves, flat asses and asses that are shaped like wedges (you know the ones, they’re big and wide and flat on top, like a shelf supported by ‘L’ brackets and usually shoehorned into leggings), and varicose veins start forming in my brain so I force myself to get up and do something that requires me to move more than my hands. This push towards movement is extra hard on days like today, when sitting completely still results in beads of sweat gathering at the back of my neck, but if polishing off a litre carton of ice cream in one sitting has proven anything, it’s proven that I’m no quitter. So, hitting ‘publish’ now and then dragging my decrepit bones out of this chair for a walkabout the house and yard. Pray for me.