Word of the Day Challenge

[Chasing Dreams]

She wasn’t sure how long she sat in her car lost in her own thoughts as she tried to find the strength to go into the law office to since the paperwork that she wished she never had to sign. She knew that signing the papers made everything final and she wasn’t ready to do so. It had only been a few days and while she had managed to stay completely numb, she knew that feeling would wear off eventually and when it did, she just knew she’d fall apart. She didn’t want to face the reality of not hearing her voice again or meeting up for lunch like they had done on a weekly basis. She took a deep breath and got out of her car before heading into the law office. The lawyer she had to meet was waiting for her and though he spoke his condolences, she tuned him out and got down to signing the papers. Once she did, the lawyer told her that her Aunt’s possessions and lifesaving's would be expropriated to her in about a week’s time. She could only nod as she did not wish to fall apart in front of anyone as she thanked the man and headed back to her car.

[Daeva]

Today's Word of the Day is....

hagiography
noun | hag-ee-AH-gruh-fee


Definition

1 : biography of saints or venerated persons

2 : idealizing or idolizing biography


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

Like biography and autograph, the word hagiography has to do with the written word. The combining form -graphy comes from Greek graphein, meaning "to write." Hagio- comes from a Greek word that means "saintly" or "holy." This origin is seen in Hagiographa, the Greek designation of the Ketuvim, the third part of the Jewish Scriptures. English's hagiography, though it can refer to biography of actual saints, is these days more often applied to biography that treats ordinary human subjects as if they were saints.

[Chapter One]

"What did we say about being in the library unsupervised, Andraea?"

The aged leather spine of the tome braced upon the palm of her hand slipped free as her body jerked, startled by the sudden voice seeming to apparate just behind her left shoulder. Her eyes widened in horror as gravity lay claim upon the tome, dragging it down to impact with a thud upon the castle stone. There was no mistaking the owner of that voice, touched by the subtle raspiness of age and yet still markedly confident, Grand Master Graesen. "Not to be, Master Graesen," the young woman answered, voice just a notch above a whisper as eyes remain settled upon the tome's final resting place.

"Not to be," Graesen repeated calmly. The Grand Master leaned forward, knees bending slightly as mottled fingers secured the tome. Straightening himself back up, tired eyes gave a cursory glance at the elegant script upon the tome's surface before turning to the young trainee. "A sudden interest in the life of Kohren Ishida?"

With the normally expected level of reprimand appearing unforthcoming, Andraea turned and lifted her gaze up to the Grand Master. "I want to be as good as him." And then with an afterthought, "one day."

The sudden, toneless snort past flared nostrils from Graesen came as a surprise to the trainee; the Grand Master of the Academy rarely broke his stoic composure, and Andraea wasn't convinced the old man knew how to smile, let alone express humor. "Kohren was an idiot," Graesen stated with a dismissively slow flick of two fingers, "You'll live longer if you focus on your training and not fantasizing vicariously through this hagiography."

Confusion touched her sable eyes, Andraea's lips parted to speak, but she said nothing as her mind caught up with forming the intended words. Two seconds later, she found them, "But Kohren was the greatest-" she made an unintelligible startled noise as the flick of Graesen's finger struck the center of her forehead.

"You did not serve with him," Graesen interrupted, a sharpness in his tone that Andraea was all too familiar with, "Stories and legends perpetuated by overexaggerated fables as these." He stepped past her, the tome protesting as it was squeezed back in place upon the shelf. "Stories told for a reason but are far from reality." The Grand Master turned, gaze lowering to meet her eyes, "Now go."

[Chasing Dreams]

She knew that she had gotten lucky that two of her closet friends were both omniscient, which led them to setting records at the local trivia contest. That night she was sitting at a table with them as they were waiting for the trivia change to start. With her friends’ help, their Tuesday nights were used to compete in trivia contests. If they could win two more competitions, she knew they would each get ten thousand dollars to use as they saw fit.

[Daeva]

Today's Word of the Day is....

urbane
adjective | er-BAYN


Definition

: notably polite or polished in manner


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

City slickers and country folk have long debated whether life is better in town or in the wide-open spaces, and urbane is a term that springs from the throes of that debate. In its earliest English uses, urbane was synonymous with its close relative urban ("of, relating to, characteristic of, or constituting a city"). Both words come from the Latin adjective urbanus ("urban, urbane"), which in turn is derived from urbs, meaning "city." Urbane developed its modern sense denoting savoir faire from the belief (no doubt fostered by city dwellers) that living in the city made one more suave and polished than did leading a rural life.

[Chapter One]

"Your sort is on its way out, understand? You aren't welcome here, so I suggest you get back on your horse and start on out of town." The man placed a hand against the hitching rail as he spoke, right in the way of where Eugene intended to tether his horse.

Eugene's fist clenched, heavy callouses from hands that had seen a life of physical labor grinding down against the worn and well-used reins. Irritation flared, threatening to play the role of both spark and fuel to his temper. "I don't want any trouble, just picking up supplies, and I'll be on my way," he hissed through gritted teeth.

"Seems you have trouble understanding. We don't have supplies for you. Try the next town." The words were dripping with urbane friendliness, complimented by a smile that did not reach the man's eyes and contrasted by the intent and insinuation behind the words themselves. The casual resting of a hand atop a six-shooter nestled within a holster of a make and quality that Eugene could never hope to afford didn't do much to ease the tension quickly building between them.

Eugene already hated coming into town, too many people, too much noise, and everyone seemed to speak in undertones of niceties and cordiality. It had been trouble ever since the McNeils moved into town, and Eugene still couldn't figure out the rivalry that seemed so entrenched between his father and them. But after months of ramping tension, Eugene was getting sick of being pushed around; his patience was wearing dangerously thin. "I'm here for supplies," he repeated himself, light-blue eyes coming to settle upon John McNeil's own as Eugene's hand dropped from the reins and settled against the side of a bruised and faded holster.

A small smile, condescending and eager, tugged at the edge of John's lips. "Seems we're at an impasse."

"Seems so," Eugene replied through a thin-lined draw of his lips.

[Chasing Dreams]

She hadn’t wanted to go on the trip because she hated big cities. She loved the smaller town living in places big city people thought were too small. It amused her because while the smaller town didn’t have the high-end stores, they still had all the other shops big chain stores and some of the big chain restaurants as well as amazing mom and pop places. She looked out the car window as she could see the city come into view along with all the traffic and people. Her friends that were in the car all smirked as they knew she had only agreed to tag along because they had promised her that while they were off shopping, she’d be able to go to the museums and the many bookstores. Before she knew it, they had checked into their hotel and were going their separate ways. She watched her friends go off towards the stores while she headed off in search of one of the bookstores she wanted to check out. When she arrived and walked inside and took a calming breath because the walk over to the place was a challenge.

“First time here, huh?” one of the bookstore employees asked as she saw the relieved look on Ellie’s face. “It must be. She’s got on sensible shoes unlike the majority of those that live here.” A customer said, as Ellie looked over at her and looked at the incredibly put together look. Even as the woman spoke, all Ellie could think was how urbane the other woman was. There wasn’t a single strand hair out of place and everything the woman screamed classy and polished.

[Daeva]

Today's Word of the Day is....

jeremiad
noun | jair-uh-MYE-ud


Definition

: a prolonged lamentation or complaint; also : a cautionary or angry harangue


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

Jeremiah was a Jewish prophet, who lived from about 650 to 570 B.C. and spent his days lambasting the Hebrews for their false worship and social injustice and denouncing the king for his selfishness, materialism, and inequities. When not calling on his people to quit their wicked ways, he was lamenting his own lot; a portion of the biblical Book of Jeremiah is devoted to his "confessions," a series of lamentations on the hardships endured by a prophet with an unpopular message. Nowadays, English speakers use Jeremiah for a pessimistic person and jeremiad for the way these Jeremiahs carry on. The word jeremiad was borrowed from the French, who coined it as jérémiade.

[dren]

"We should arrive before sundown. I'm sure of it."
"You've repeated that same phrase a total of ten times today, Alice. When the H*** are we gonna get there?" Robert spat.
"Maybe if you've never lost the map back at the Saddle, we wouldn't be in this predicament." She finally confronted.

It was nearing the end of daytime once again, and the only thing Alice Rampart wanted to think about was how convenient it was for her partner to mess up with something so crucial just at the right moment. If she had focused on the priority, she'd most likely have an idea that the map of Arizona they once held was never going to be of use. But Dr. Trinity made it seem so easy, she thought, with the way he seamlessly guided his calloused index across the swirls of lines that represented the geology of the desert. As time went on, while supplies dwindled against their hunger for hydration, she soon realized just how equal the chances were of never getting to Robert's eight year old daughter, Fiona.

It wasn't going to be until the sixth day of dragging their toes through the course, razor-like sand, where Robert began to grow signs of madness. It explained why he kept getting paranoid about Alice being around him. He started to believe that perhaps he was the one who infected his child with the smallpox, and that maybe it was just another wrath from his own God. In turn, his partner, equipped with a limitation of handling his bitterness, found that it was often easier to just pretend that he was the one who died from exhaustion instead of their stallion, Rami.

Alice gave Robert a last chance to clear up his jeremiad before fearing the worst, leaving him for dead.

"If we don't get there by tomorrow, and I somehow find out that my Fiona has passed, I am going take this rifle to my own head. A lick and a promise." He grunted.
"Robert." Alice muttered.
"Hm?"
"That's it. Do you see it just 'round the horizon? We're here! C'mon, get a move on!" She shouted, ignoring the painful dryness that intruded her nasal.
"Fiona.."

They picked up their speed, holding onto their caps with the remnants of their might. But the closer the approached, the more Alice feuded against her confusion. This should've been Sierra's Waterhole, but, where has it gone?

[Chasing Dreams]

Social events weren’t her favorite things to attend because she’d rather curl up on her comfy chair and read a book. No matter how hard she tried to get out of having to go, her boss said she had to go because there was a client that said he’d only select their advertising firm if he could work with her as it was the second time that he’d select to work with them. The event was being held at a fancy hotel and when she arrived, she glanced around for the potential client. It didn’t her long to find the client and just as she approached him, they were both interrupted by the bumptious woman from the rival advertising firm. The annoying woman was well-known for her antics and for her unrelenting approach that often backfired on her. Lacey glanced at the client and knew that he wasn’t one to be pushed around at all and managed to keep a straight face when he told the annoying one that under no circumstances would he work with her firm. It was amusing for Lacey to see the other woman scramble to try to say something to change the man’s mind, but it was clear he wouldn’t do so.

[Daeva]

Today's Word of the Day is....

bivouac
verb | BIV-uh-wak


Definition

1 : to make a temporary encampment under little or no shelter

2 : to take shelter often temporarily

3 : to provide temporary quarters for

Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

In his 1841 dictionary, Noah Webster observed bivouac to be a French borrowing having military origins. He defined the noun bivouac as "the guard or watch of a whole army, as in cases of great danger of surprise or attack" and the verb as "to watch or be on guard, as a whole army." The French word is derived from the Low German word biwacht, which translates to "by guard." Germans used the word specifically for a patrol of citizens who assisted the town watch at night. Today, bivouac has less to do with guarding and patrolling than it does with taking shelter.

[dren]

All Alice Rampart saw was a void. No echoes, no feelings, or anything relating to consciousness. It was peaceful at least, because it was much better than burning against a sun and dunes that reached more than a hundred degrees.

But then, she woke up with a shriek.

Alice looked around her as her vision escaped from the blurriness of her peripherals. When she somewhat regained her composure, she'd realize that she was placed on a cot in the middle of bivouac settlement, feeling leather and hay poke at her bandages which she never remembered placing on. "Hello?" She rang out, but before she could arise, a terrible burning coursed against the surface of her back and feet, and it felt like she was lit on fire.

"Rest." A voice spoke from the outside. It did not sound anything like Robert's.
"Who was that? Answer me at once!" Alice instinctively reached for her revolver, but only succeeded in grabbing her bandage.
"Friend." It said again.

Within the darkness of the settlement's interior, only lit by a single candle that's already melted ten times over, she'd see the hidden figure make it's way in through the cracks of the separating hay and adobe. It was a young girl of Native heritage, presumably 15 or 16. It's been a while since Alice came forth to an indigenous person, the last being her father's duel against a lone wanderer who wanted their supplies. With that, she began making her assumptions. The girl approached her with a mortar full of aloe and nopal extract. "You're an Apache." Alice muttered before having her arm's bandage unwinded, feeling the coldness of the substance that soothed her blistering sunburn.

"I'm-.. Alice Rampart." She pointed to herself with a free hand. "Alice."
"Aponi." The girl replied, not looking up.
"Wait-.. Robert? Where's my partner?" But there was no response. "A man, please, I'm supposed to take him to his daughter, Fiona." She spoke as if there wasn't a language barrier. It confused Aponi, but she connected the dots as to why Alice suddenly grew frantic. The girl grabbed Alice's hand and stared deeply into her eyes, and it was as though Alice knew exactly what she meant. Robert succumbed to his madness, and well, he was found two hundred or so feet from the body of his partner. Alice didn't know whether to cry out for him or accept the new reality of a failed mission. She took another look around the shack and noticed one of her bags emptied out on a table. Aponi helped her as she tried getting up, guiding her to the now cleaned instruments that were once stored. The antidote sat in a syringe right in the middle of the table, and as she went to pick it up, she'd take sight of a crumbled map that lied leisurely against the corner. It was unraveled, and it seemed to be hand drawn. She took one last look at Aponi before realizing just how close her and Robert actually were.

[Chasing Dreams]

Her mind raced as she walked into something she wished she hadn’t. She had tried to walk out of the breakroom the moment she stepped inside because her coworker that was known to complain had just started a jeremiad that she didn’t want to hear. She wasn’t in the mood to even pretend to be sympathetic to her coworker’s complaints because the woman hadn’t tried to do anything to try to change what she was complaining about and hadn’t tried to get some help with the tasks that she had been assigned. She was grateful that she was quick on her feet because she claimed that she had a meeting to go to in order to get away from hearing the rest of what the coworker was saying.

[Daeva]

Today's Word of the Day is....

palaver
noun | puh-LAV-er


Definition

1 a : a long discussion or meeting parley usually between persons of different cultures or levels of sophistication

b : conference, discussion

2 a : idle talk

b : misleading or beguiling speech

Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

During the 18th century, Portuguese and English sailors often met during trading trips along the West African coast. This contact prompted the English to borrow the Portuguese palavra, which usually means "speech" or "word" but was used by Portuguese traders with the specific meaning "discussions with natives." The Portuguese word traces back to the Late Latin parabola, a noun meaning "speech" or "parable."

[Chasing Dreams]

The weather had been beautiful the entire day that she had been out sight-seeing in a small town that was just over an hour from where she was living. When she had checked the weather report before she left for the day, there had been nothing about storms or bad weather that she might be facing on the drive home. About twenty minutes into the drive home, a bad storm out of nowhere. She didn’t mind driving in bad weather, but this storm was one of the worst she’d ever driven in. The rain was coming down heavily and the wind that came with it made seeing even five feet ahead impossible. The construction cones on the road were being blown all over the road causing her to have to weave in and out of them while trying to keep her vehicle from being blown by the strong wind gusts. After ten minutes of driving, she managed to take an exit and pulled into a small diner’s parking lot before dashing inside the diner as it was a bivouac for her. While her nerves weren’t shot, she knew it wasn’t wise to continue driving in the storm since road conditions were so bad.

[Daeva]

Today's Word of the Day is....

wherefore
adverb | WAIR-for


Definition

1 : for what reason or purpose : why

2 : therefore


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

In early English, a number of new words were formed by combining where with a preposition. In such words, where had the meaning of "what" or "which"—hence, wherein ("in what"), whereon ("on what"), and wherefore ("for what"). Although wherefore as an adverb is rarely used today, the noun form, meaning "an answer or statement giving an explanation," survives in the phrase "the whys and wherefores."

[Lilias]

Faith watched Anna put the finishing touches to the cheesecake, her expression one of pure awe. ‘I can hardly believe this is a recipe of Madame Vera’s’, she said.

‘Better believe it,’ said Anna, putting down the piping bag and picking up her phone. ‘The basic recipe was her mother’s; she was inspired to add the topping during her first British tour’. She snapped a couple of pictures, from above and at an angle, then removed a precise quarter with the big serrated knife and squatted down to snap a close-up of the confection’s layered insides: biscuit, purple berry filling, an impossibly thin layer of sponge, a light slathering of custard, and everything topped with little meringue rosettes. A dessert created to crash Instagram, decades before Instagram even existed, thought Faith.

‘I don’t know, she just doesn’t strike me as the type who would bother with a kitchen at all, let alone get creative in it,’ she said out loud.

Anna shook her head, slipped the phone into her pocket, then slid the quarter onto a cutting board, split it into two wedges, and put the rest away in the fridge. ‘She does look very much the dignified retired diva, doesn’t she?’ she chuckled. 'Urbane, dainty, polished, all effortless grace and poise that charmed billionaires and royalty, back in the day. And it’s all true, just not the whole truth.’ She grabbed two spoons from the draining board and handed Faith one. ‘Cultivating that image suits her very well with the outsiders, but she has always been the kind to muck in and get her hands dirty. Can’t get around that bit, if you’re going to be one of us.’ She took a big spoonful and sighed, half-closing her eyes. ‘Wor’ all ‘e wor’,’ she declared, muffled around the spoon.

Faith laughed and attacked her own piece. ‘Better you than me,’ she said before the first bite… but oh goodness, Anna was so right. Cheesecake was a dependable dessert, but this went so much further that Faith was momentarily tempted to ask for the recipe and put in the work herself.

Instead, she diligently chewed and swallowed, waiting for the urge to subside, and asked, perhaps a bit more deferentially than she planned, ‘Is there nothing Madame Vera can’t do?’

‘Well, she’s not omniscient,’ replied Anna, who had scoffed half her piece already. ‘But she believes that anything worth doing is worth doing exceptionally well. Makes for a lot of work, but can’t really argue with the reasoning. More coffee?’

[Chasing Dreams]

She had never been one to want to talk much to people she didn’t know, so whenever she traveled by plane, she purposely put in her ear buds as soon as she was at the gate to avoid talking to anyone. Yet without fail, someone always tried to make palaver with her about little things like where she was traveling to or long it took to get through security. This time, she purposely bought headphones that were noise cancelling to try to do her best to avoid anyone and she also used a book to try to deter anyone from speaking to her.

[Daeva]

Today's Word of the Day is....

dally
verb | DAL-ee


Definition

1 a : to act playfully; especially : to play amorously

b : to deal lightly : toy

2 a : to waste time

b : linger, dawdle


Weekly Theme

Western


Did You Know?

English speakers have been playing with dally since the 14th century. They first started using the word with the meaning "to chat," which was also the meaning of the Anglo-French word from which it was derived, but that meaning fell into disuse. Next, dalliers were amusing themselves by acting playfully with each other especially in amorous and flirtatious ways. Apparently, some dalliers were also a bit derisive, leading dally to mean "to deal with lightly or in a way that is not serious." It didn't take long for the fuddy-duddies to criticize all this play as a waste of time. By the mid-16th century, dally was weighted down with its "to waste time" and "to dawdle" senses.

[Lilias]

In movies, That Kind of phone call always comes in the middle of the night, and is usually followed by a frantic drive to an emotional gathering. In reality, my reality, it came early in the evening, just after the twins had been bathed and put to bed and my husband and I were about to sit down with beers and popcorn to watch whatever instalment of the MCU-in-order we were on.

‘I heard from the old town,’ my mother said over the line. ‘Your father is dead. Funeral is on Monday afternoon. Any closure you want to get, this is your last chance.’

I put the phone back in my pocket and flopped down on the sofa. My husband looked concerned, so I briefed him in, ‘Brief’ being the key word. Our Border collie, Old Pop, sensing I was upset, came to snuggle up against me. ‘So,’ my husband started tentatively, ‘are you going?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said truthfully. ‘Can you get me another beer, please? And start the movie?’

I drank my two beers, ate my share of the popcorn and looked at the screen, although I could remember nothing of the movie afterwards. Old Pop whined from time to time, and I petted him absently, but he was not fooled. He slept at my feet that night, not his dad’s. His snufflings were comforting as the dark hours dragged and sleep refused to come, despite the drinking.

Closure. That was all I would be able to get. But was that all I wanted, or needed, from the man who gave me life only to ruin it?

My father was a bigamist. He had the perfect small-town family, wife and three kids, before they ran into a rough patch and he took off to the city, to ‘work out his issues’. Instead, he met my mother, who was only seventeen at the time, swept her up into a whirlwind romance, complete with courthouse wedding without any family present, welcomed me into the world, and when mundane reality started to bite and she pressed him to cut down on his happy-go-lucky ways and make some more effort for my sake, he departed back to his missus. The entire interlude hadn’t lasted two years.

With no legal recourse and no family of her own left to fall back on, my mother did what she could, which was not much. She took whatever jobs would have her, and worked the streets in between. My first memories were of squalid apartments, hunger, loneliness, and permanent, cloying fear. I never knew how close my mother came to becoming a statistic. She never talks about those years.

Eventually, she got arrested, and I was taken into the foster system. That could have been the clue that both our lives were circling the drain. Instead, she met Dad - not to be confused with my father. With his help, she sorted out her life and got me back, though not before I had gone through three foster placements. Let’s just say we both needed a lot of therapy in the years that followed.

I haven’t done too shabbily for myself, growing up. I went to nursing school, married a great guy (who didn’t give up on me because I dragged my feet for years), and had the twins, whom my husband is determined to raise into two more great guys. Dad and my mother are the proudest grandparents for miles around. But if someone offered me a way to turn back time and make it so she would never meet my father, I’d take it. I’d take not having existed at all, over the hell he put us both through.

I drove over on Monday by myself. Husband had offered to drop off the kids at the grandparents’ and come along, but I wouldn’t have it. I really don’t know what I was thinking, what I was expecting, unless it was a last chance to see the author of my miserable childhood with my own eyes. I sang along to whatever classic rock station came on the radio for the whole two hours. Anything not to actually have to think about my actions.

I arrived deliberately early, to avoid mingling with mourners. My jeans and white T-shirt drew some attention among the few black-clad people hanging out about the old kirk, but no one attempted to stop me getting to the coffin, or as much as identify me.

And there he was. The few pictures of the three of us that my mother had saved showed him as a big oaf with no sense of style; I could see none of the charm she claimed had worked on her. Now he was shrivelled up with age and illness; cancer is not a gentle way to go. I looked down at his remains, trying to summon all the fury that had occasionally erupted in my therapist’s office and hurl it at its rightful target, and found nothing. I felt hollow, and he looked pitiful, not worth the effort.

This man had never stood by me as a father. Dad had done that. Holding on to my grudge was not fair to him. He was alive, and I was alive, and hopefully he’d have several more years to see his grandchildren grow.

‘Goodbye, old man,’ I whispered. ‘Done is done, and no hard feelings. I hope, for your sake, you treated your other kids better than me.’ I didn’t know how much I meant those words until I said them out loud.

I pivoted on one heel and strode out of the sanctuary. The funeral would start in about twenty minutes, and I wanted to be long gone by then. I didn’t expect hagiographies, but who could know, maybe he had grown into a pillar of community in the sunset of his life. Anyway, I was in no mood to dally and risk meeting any of the other family. The shadow had lifted off my life, and I had a family of my own to return to.

[Chasing Dreams]

She had far too much to accomplish that for her upcoming vacation that she had only three days to get ready for. She planned on doing all the running around she had to get done that day and knew that one of the stops was going to be nearly impossible for her to run in and grab the two items she needed. She decided to make that stop first and kept trying to tell herself she was only going in for two books and no more than two books to read while on vacation. When she got to the bookstore, she found she was having a hard time not dallying about as she had already picked out two books, but had two more that she was debating on.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

pulchritude
noun | PUHL-kruh-tood


Definition

: physical comeliness


Weekly Theme

Mythical Creatures


Did You Know?

Pulchritude is a descendant of the Latin adjective pulcher, which means "beautiful." Pulcher hasn't exactly been a wellspring of English terms, but it did give English both pulchritude and pulchritudinous, an adjective meaning "attractive" or "beautiful." The verb pulchrify (a synonym of beautify), the noun pulchritudeness (same meaning as pulchritude), and the adjective pulchrous (meaning "fair or beautiful") are other pulcher offspring, but those terms have proved that, in at least some linguistic cases, beauty is fleeting.

[Chasing Dreams]

She was listening to a long drawn out lecture of sorts and was wondering what the point of it was. The person speaking was known for not getting to the point the quickly and she had all but zoned out. It wasn’t until she heard his go to word, wherefore, and began to actively listen again to see that he was stressing that they needed to be able to have a better work/life balance that they were missing because of how much they were working and how often they were asked to come into work on the weekends. The last line he spoke was all one needed to listen to. “Wherefore, enjoying our lives and time with our families was more important than constantly working because they were missing out on family time." her coworker said.

[Britwitch]

Today's Word of the Day is....

exemplary
adjective | ig-ZEM-pluh-ree


Definition

1 a : deserving imitation : commendable; also : deserving imitation because of excellence

b : serving as a pattern

2 : serving as an example, instance, or illustration

3 : serving as a warning : monitory


Weekly Theme

Mythical Creatures


Did You Know?

Exemplary (and its close relatives example and exemplify) derives from the Latin noun exemplum ("example"). When exemplary describes something as "excellent," it almost always carries the further suggestion that the thing described is worthy of imitation.

[Chasing Dreams]

There had only been so much she could take because she had heard how wonderful her sister was her entire life. It didn’t matter that she was an adult and she was accomplished in her own right because she was still in her sister’s shadow. She knew she had been a handful at times and even more so in her adult life because she hated being compared to her sister and had rebelled more as an adult. She had left home as soon as she had been able to and traveled. She also had a few tattoos that she knew her parents hated. She hadn’t gone to college immediately, but had found her way in the world and now worked for a great tech firm. She wasn’t as wild as she had been, but she knew how to enjoy life and was spontaneous, whereas her sister wasn’t. Her sister planned everything down to the last minute. The two sisters had always gotten along despite seeing the difference in how they had been treated and talked about. Now she found herself sitting at her sister’s rehearsal dinner and was being forced to listen to their parents talk about how proud they were of her sister and how she was the perfect daughter, with an amazing career, and a great fiancé. While this was going on, she could only sit there and sip on her wine as she debated leaving. Her sister glanced over at her and mouthed the words ‘sorry’ to her as she hated when their parents did that. The last straw for Emma was when her parents began talking about Sam’s career and how she had just gotten a huge promotion. While Emma was happy for her sister, she ended up walking out of the rehearsal dinner after her parents began to lecture her and told her that Sam was exemplary as a daughter and she needed to be more like Sam. She didn’t want to fight with their parents, but she couldn’t sit there and let them talk to her in such a way. There had been so much going on in her life that she was happy about, but their parents had a way of making her feel terrible.

“Ems, you okay?” Sam asked as she walked over and pulled her sister into a hug. “I told them not to do this again.” She said, as she knew that Emma was upset.

“They will never change. I’ve got so much going on, but I’ll catch up with you later. I’ll be fine, but I’m not going back in there. I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow and then I’m heading back home. Don’t worry, you know that I’ll behave on your wedding day.” She said, as she saw Sam smirk.

“Thanks. Though I wouldn’t be opposed to you telling them you finally got engaged and that you are eloping along with disowning them after tonight.” Sam said, as she laughed. “You’ve always been the strong one. Go on. Get out of here and relax for the rest of the evening. I heard your besties are in town and are at the usual spot.” She said, as she knew from Emma’s face that she had been planning exactly what she said.

“I don’t even want to know how you knew that. I’m guessing that Liam called you and told you how much I was dreading tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow. I think the old group needs to get together tonight.” She said, as she smirked and pulled away from her sister and walked to her car. She knew the only reason she made it that far was because Sam had always been there for her and that hadn’t changed once they were adults.