Last day of the Alphabet Challenge: my dictionary random selection offers me a snack. Zwieback, filling the niche between toast and biscuit, is an egg rich loaf that is sliced and further baked: zwieback means 'twice baked.' Cinnamon would be a nice addition, although the recipe I looked up had nutmeg.
Today is not for baking, there is too much garden work to do, so I'm leaving this link here to get back to when the next batch of planting and repotting is done. For my finale, I have put all of my randomly selected words into one sentence, and found that there is a kind of story in it, because every sentence has a sort of implied story to it, because story underpins everything we do, because more than bones or dust, story is our existence and our legacy. No wonder we are drawn to this reading and writing lark!
April 2014 A-Z Finale Sentence:
After an abysmal banister conclusion at my domicile lead me to expostulate, dressed in a frill, with some passing gentry, we left in heavy hail, where an illustrious jaguar kiss brought a light-hearted cry of 'mayday,' and a nonagenarian smiled, though old, she said she delighted in a polonaise and would never quit: that was her reported speech, she had a lilt like a sonnet, the up and down lilt, it held you as a vice, even in wet cold weather; hazardous weather, marked xn; and so together we contemplated the reach of Yggdrasil as we crunched zwieback snacks and watched the sun re-emerge.
|View from and including breakfast table: toast over done. |
Should have baked it!