Today was a struggle for a word. Not that there aren’t a number of words that start with N; so many of them are so empty. Nothing. No-one. Nowhere.
N has a serious case of the negatives.
But who doesn’t love a word that is both a thing and an action, but the two are entirely, entirely unrelated?
Why should the word for the fantastically delicious and versatile food staple also mean to think? And why would “noodle” come to mean head/brain/mind?
It’s a mystery.
Probably not a big mystery because it’s likely just a google search away, but whatever the background, it won’t match the delightful weirdness of the outcome.
Should I check?
I’m going to check.
Well, I was right, and they don’t really know either. The best guess is that it’s altered version of “noddle,” which was a stupid person. Noddle is a fun word to pick up, though in this tech world people will just assume you misspelled “noodle.”
You’re probably wondering about that jumble of letters up there. What you’re seeing is an #AtoZChallenge brainchild!
Yep. Not only do you get blogging, you could get brainchildren.
Last year, a number of people enjoyed the disciplined way that A to Z keeps you blogging. But getting projects finished can prove tricky, especially if taking advantage of more than one of April’s challenges.
So MAYkingItWork was born.
It’s a no-pressure May challenge where you take that project that’s been annoying you–whatever project that may be–and you, well, make it work.
That challenge gave rise to #AccountaClub. And Donna McNicol’s JuKnowUCanDoIt. Which, shockingly, happens in June.
Still behind. Still sorry. And I have so much catching up to do after my headaches, so it will probably take a bit, so I’m not ignoring you, I still adore you or am thrilled to meet you, I’m just behind.
And on to knotty. Which is how I found this post this morning, struggling as I was to find a K. It’s funny how we can tangle up and and around ourselves, exacerbating whatever pressure we had in the first place.
Which I am now doing.
Sometimes things seem to knot up all on their own, the metaphorical and the literal alike. Take, for instance, my headphones.
How is it that no matter what state I leave them in, the next time I see them they’re the World’s Biggest Ball of Headphones? Is it personal?
Stress does that too, back in the metaphorical realm, it weaves the problems together until it’s difficult to pick one out of the other. Not that I have any experience with that or anything.
But at least it’s Friday, and I’m now realizing this post isn’t AccountaClubby at all. In fact, I only just realized it was supposed to be (sneaky me) and that I hadn’t done the photo prompt yesterday.
See what I mean? Knots.
So: for #Accountaclub: yay #AtoZ! Yay many other annoying tasks that have to get done! Yay exercise!
Boo writing! Boo being a bad commenter and visitor!
Sorry. She just won’t let “I” pass without getting her due. Aunty Ida, that is.
Who is Aunty Ida, you ask conveniently hypothetical reader? Why she’s a brilliant scientist slightly more, um, well, enthusiastic than she should be.
Don’t tell her I said that.
Her bad side is a place you do not want to be. For sure.
While fictional, I’m not sure Aunty Ida is entirely fictional. Sometimes I feel as though she’s out there, somewhere, in a parallel somewhere or another, dictating her stories to me through the distance of space and time and reality.
If anyone could, she could.
For the writers among us, do you have characters like Ida? Ones who boss you, who tell you what’s what? Who demand your attention and their spotlight on the page?