peak
verb, intransitive. To reach a highest point, either of a specified value or at a specified time. Archaic: to decline in health and spirits or to waste away.
Also a noun and an adjective.
Erin heard a murmur from the front desk and turned to see who it was. Joe Baker, the elderly founder of the small recording company who used her company to print CD inserts and booklets, was talking to Christine as he handed her a packet of papers. For the first time, Erin noticed that he was leaning on a cane. “When did that start?” she wondered.
Joe turned toward the front door, then stopped and returned to the desk to add to what he had already told Christine. When he finally left, Erin rolled her chair back so that she could watch his progress. He had a limp and definitely needed the cane. He was leaning on it, after positioning it cautiously. She watched him negotiate the sidewalk back to his car, then she got up and approached Christine, who was scribbling notes to attach to the papers Joe had handed her.
“Want me to write that up?” Erin asked her.
“No need. They’re returned proofs.” She sneered at the packet as she paperclipped her note to it. “There are a lot of changes.” She handed Erin the papers and looked back at her monitor.
“I’ve never seen Joe use a cane before,” she said before looking at the proofs. “Did he have an accident?”
“No. I guess his old football injuries are catching up to him,” Christine answered.
“That’s right,” Erin tilted her head in thought. “He was a big deal when he played for the university, wasn’t he?”
Christine nodded. “I don’t recommend that you ask him about that, not unless you’ve got at least half an hour to spend listening to the answer.” Her sour expression told Erin that Christine had made that mistake once and was not planning to do so again.
“That’s sad,” Erin said after a moment, staring out the window as she thought.
“No it isn’t,” Christine spat, surprising Erin with her vehemence.
“Yeah, I think it is,” Erin returned. “He peaked before he turned twenty-three.”
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
Sunday, April 29, 2018
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
Obligate
obligate
verb. To bind or compel someone, especially legally or morally.
verb, transitive. To commit assets as security, as "the money must be obligated within thirty days."
Also an adjective.
June was surprised and annoyed when two airline employees flagged down her and Tom. They had just deplaned and had less than thirty minutes to reach their connecting flight. She had only been in the Atlanta airport once before but remembered how large it was: the size of a small city. It even had its own mass-transit system to speed passengers between the far-flung gates and concourses.
“You two are heading for concourse A, right?” asked one of the uniformed women. In response to Tom’s “Yes,” she went on: “Would you accompany this young man to his gate?” She turned to him. “Is it gate 19?” The boy nodded, and Tom stated that he and June would be happy to help.
After one searching up-and-down look at the boy, June spun on one foot and headed toward the concourse exit. She was appalled. The airline staff had no business fobbing off their responsibility onto a couple of random passengers. She knew that there were rules for dealing with “unaccompanied minors.” Now that Tom had obligated them to take care of the child, it was too late to protest. An inner voice griped as she walked: “Really? We could be anybody--serial child predators! Unbelievable.”
She led their trio as fast as she could without breaking into a jog, turning her head now and then to make sure that Tom and the boy were keeping up. The latter appeared to be about twelve years old, and was holding his own at the pace she was setting. She had to pause and read overhead signs several times to make sure they were heading toward concourse A, and when she did, she noticed that the boy was staying a cautious distance from her and Tom: just far enough away so that neither nor both of them could grab him. She smiled at his good sense. Not an idiot. He knew better than to trust strangers.
After walking for nearly ten minutes, they reached the tram. One was waiting, and the electronic sign indicated that concourse A would be its next stop. She led the way on board, moved to one side and grabbed a bar.
“Have you ever ridden one of these before?” she addressed the boy. He shook his head “No.” “It’s going to go really, really fast and it will stop suddenly,” she warned. “Hang on tight to the rail and keep your knees flexed so it won’t throw you.” He nodded. A few more people boarded, then the doors closed and the tram car started down its track. She had tried to estimate the speed of the tram the last time they had been in Atlanta. It seemed to go at fifty miles per hour or higher. She was convinced that it travelled at least a mile.
As she had warned, it came to an abrupt halt and the doors slid open. She, Tom and the boy exited, then followed the signs toward concourse A. After about five minutes of walking, they arrived at gate 19. She flanked the boy as he approached the desk. “Does it look as if you’re in the right place?” she asked him. “Yes,” he answered, nodding. She and Tom withdrew a few feet as they saw two desk attendants turn their attention to the boy. June could tell that they were willing to take over his care. Relieved, she and Tom exchanged a glance, then continued their rapid pace down the concourse to their gate.
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
verb. To bind or compel someone, especially legally or morally.
verb, transitive. To commit assets as security, as "the money must be obligated within thirty days."
Also an adjective.
June was surprised and annoyed when two airline employees flagged down her and Tom. They had just deplaned and had less than thirty minutes to reach their connecting flight. She had only been in the Atlanta airport once before but remembered how large it was: the size of a small city. It even had its own mass-transit system to speed passengers between the far-flung gates and concourses.
“You two are heading for concourse A, right?” asked one of the uniformed women. In response to Tom’s “Yes,” she went on: “Would you accompany this young man to his gate?” She turned to him. “Is it gate 19?” The boy nodded, and Tom stated that he and June would be happy to help.
After one searching up-and-down look at the boy, June spun on one foot and headed toward the concourse exit. She was appalled. The airline staff had no business fobbing off their responsibility onto a couple of random passengers. She knew that there were rules for dealing with “unaccompanied minors.” Now that Tom had obligated them to take care of the child, it was too late to protest. An inner voice griped as she walked: “Really? We could be anybody--serial child predators! Unbelievable.”
She led their trio as fast as she could without breaking into a jog, turning her head now and then to make sure that Tom and the boy were keeping up. The latter appeared to be about twelve years old, and was holding his own at the pace she was setting. She had to pause and read overhead signs several times to make sure they were heading toward concourse A, and when she did, she noticed that the boy was staying a cautious distance from her and Tom: just far enough away so that neither nor both of them could grab him. She smiled at his good sense. Not an idiot. He knew better than to trust strangers.
After walking for nearly ten minutes, they reached the tram. One was waiting, and the electronic sign indicated that concourse A would be its next stop. She led the way on board, moved to one side and grabbed a bar.
“Have you ever ridden one of these before?” she addressed the boy. He shook his head “No.” “It’s going to go really, really fast and it will stop suddenly,” she warned. “Hang on tight to the rail and keep your knees flexed so it won’t throw you.” He nodded. A few more people boarded, then the doors closed and the tram car started down its track. She had tried to estimate the speed of the tram the last time they had been in Atlanta. It seemed to go at fifty miles per hour or higher. She was convinced that it travelled at least a mile.
As she had warned, it came to an abrupt halt and the doors slid open. She, Tom and the boy exited, then followed the signs toward concourse A. After about five minutes of walking, they arrived at gate 19. She flanked the boy as he approached the desk. “Does it look as if you’re in the right place?” she asked him. “Yes,” he answered, nodding. She and Tom withdrew a few feet as they saw two desk attendants turn their attention to the boy. June could tell that they were willing to take over his care. Relieved, she and Tom exchanged a glance, then continued their rapid pace down the concourse to their gate.
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
Monday, April 23, 2018
Narrate
narrate
verb, transitive. To give a spoken or written account of. Often, as "be narrated." To provide a spoken commentary to accompany a film, broadcast, piece of music, etc.
Not everyone had entered the room when Curt began to narrate the series of events that had led to the accident.
"I was waiting for Joe to signal, then for Chris to move the van into line. My foot slipped off the brake pedal--I don't know why I didn't engage the parking brake; shift into neutral; whatever.... Before I knew it, the hood was buried in the side of Lee's trailer!"
No one said anything. The men stole glances at each other, then looked at the floor or their feet. No one would look at Curt. Was he fishing for sympathy, or hoping that someone would offer an explanation that he could use as an excuse? If so, he was asking the wrong crowd. Every man present had been inconvenienced or harmed by Curt's laziness, carelessness or both. He may have had friends in his private life, but he didn't at work.
"So, how do we deal with this?" he finally went on, looking around the circle of downturned faces. "What's the procedure?"
"There's no 'we' dealing with this," Lee snarled. "You caused the accident; you find the boss and confess." There was a rustle of winter clothing as the group nodded agreement and shuffled in preparation for going back outside to deal with the vehicles. If anyone had looked at Curt, they would have seen his face pale.
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
verb, transitive. To give a spoken or written account of. Often, as "be narrated." To provide a spoken commentary to accompany a film, broadcast, piece of music, etc.
Not everyone had entered the room when Curt began to narrate the series of events that had led to the accident.
"I was waiting for Joe to signal, then for Chris to move the van into line. My foot slipped off the brake pedal--I don't know why I didn't engage the parking brake; shift into neutral; whatever.... Before I knew it, the hood was buried in the side of Lee's trailer!"
No one said anything. The men stole glances at each other, then looked at the floor or their feet. No one would look at Curt. Was he fishing for sympathy, or hoping that someone would offer an explanation that he could use as an excuse? If so, he was asking the wrong crowd. Every man present had been inconvenienced or harmed by Curt's laziness, carelessness or both. He may have had friends in his private life, but he didn't at work.
"So, how do we deal with this?" he finally went on, looking around the circle of downturned faces. "What's the procedure?"
"There's no 'we' dealing with this," Lee snarled. "You caused the accident; you find the boss and confess." There was a rustle of winter clothing as the group nodded agreement and shuffled in preparation for going back outside to deal with the vehicles. If anyone had looked at Curt, they would have seen his face pale.
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
Sunday, April 15, 2018
Mandate
mandate
verb, transitive. To give someone authority to act in a certain way. To require something to be done; to make mandatory.
Also a noun. Also an adjective, as "mandated"
Production staff gathered at the conference table, bleary-eyed. Troy's hair looked uncombed. Stacy had not yet applied makeup and appeared undefined--not her assertive self. All nursed takeout coffee. Brad felt a moment's regret for calling a meeting so early, but shook it off. He might as well get it over with. Maybe the new requirements headquarters mandated would shake them up and wake them up. Now that he considered them in this light--both the illumination from the east window-wall next to the table, and the figurative light of the new corporate bosses' criticisms--he realized that his staff could stand a little upset. All of them, including Brad, had become complacent.
"I know you're not used to being alert and productive at eight a.m.," he began, "but this comes from Delaware. The new owners have had time to look at our numbers and they're not happy. We look lazy, and they want changes, starting with our daily schedule. Everyone is supposed to be in the office, ready to begin work, at eight, starting today. I know it's going to be an adjustment, but we'll all have to make it or they'll find people who can."
Ken scoffed. "They'll never be able to replace us with a more-talented team!"
Brad met Ken's eyes and shook his head. "They can and they will. Argue all you want, Ken. They don't want to hear it. They want to see results and they want to see them soon."
"How soon?" This was Stacy, her eyes widening in fear. Brad felt a twinge of sympathy. She was a single mother, after all, but he quashed it. If she didn't shape up with the others, there would be nothing he could do to salvage her position.
"Immediately," he answered.
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
verb, transitive. To give someone authority to act in a certain way. To require something to be done; to make mandatory.
Also a noun. Also an adjective, as "mandated"
Production staff gathered at the conference table, bleary-eyed. Troy's hair looked uncombed. Stacy had not yet applied makeup and appeared undefined--not her assertive self. All nursed takeout coffee. Brad felt a moment's regret for calling a meeting so early, but shook it off. He might as well get it over with. Maybe the new requirements headquarters mandated would shake them up and wake them up. Now that he considered them in this light--both the illumination from the east window-wall next to the table, and the figurative light of the new corporate bosses' criticisms--he realized that his staff could stand a little upset. All of them, including Brad, had become complacent.
"I know you're not used to being alert and productive at eight a.m.," he began, "but this comes from Delaware. The new owners have had time to look at our numbers and they're not happy. We look lazy, and they want changes, starting with our daily schedule. Everyone is supposed to be in the office, ready to begin work, at eight, starting today. I know it's going to be an adjustment, but we'll all have to make it or they'll find people who can."
Ken scoffed. "They'll never be able to replace us with a more-talented team!"
Brad met Ken's eyes and shook his head. "They can and they will. Argue all you want, Ken. They don't want to hear it. They want to see results and they want to see them soon."
"How soon?" This was Stacy, her eyes widening in fear. Brad felt a twinge of sympathy. She was a single mother, after all, but he quashed it. If she didn't shape up with the others, there would be nothing he could do to salvage her position.
"Immediately," he answered.
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
Wednesday, April 11, 2018
Lame
lame
verb, transitive. To make a person or animal lame.
adjective. Of a person or animal, unable to walk normally because of an injury or illness affecting the leg or foot. Of an explanation or excuse, unconvincingly feeble.
John set forth on his usual early-morning walk, determined to put in his thirty minutes. By the time he met Rick at the end of Rick's driveway, he was limping.
"What's this?" Rick asked, looking at John's right foot.
"Evidently," John stopped and raised the painful foot off the pavement a little, "I have lamed myself."
"Stone bruise?"
John shook his head. "That was what I thought at first. I was walking on that gravel side road just before the pain appeared, so it kind of followed. I've had a stone bruise before, and it always healed within two or three days. This pain has gone on for a week, and it seems to be getting worse. I did some research on this kind of thing online, and it seems to be plantar fasciitis."
Rick's frown became more pronounced. "I've heard that's a long-term thing. Did you run across any quick fixes for it?"
"No, unfortunately." John turned toward the stop sign at the end of their cul-de-sac and gestured for Rick to walk alongside him. "All the credible medical websites advise using the painful foot as little as possible; maybe ice packs. My brother says to roll a tennis ball under the instep, to stretch those ligaments and tendons. I think I'm just stuck like this for awhile." He turned his morose gaze on his companion. "I'm sorry. To the stop sign and back is all I dare do. The last thing I want is to injure it more and make it worse. This really hurts!"
Rick stopped moving. "I don't want that either. Let's just stop."
The two turned and returned the few yards to Rick's driveway, John limping. At Rick's house, they stood for awhile and traded a few tidbits of personal news. Rick looked at his friend then with more hope. Do you have a bicycle?"
"I ... the household has one," John replied. "John Junior never took his when he moved out. He was leery about riding it in the city."
"It's big enough for you, isn't it?"
"Sure."
"Let's cycle, then, instead of walking," Rick suggested. He hesitated, looking tentatively at John to see how the other would react. "If you want to, that is. I exercise a lot more when I do it with someone else. We've been able to do this pretty steadily, and we've both lost a little weight. What do you say?"
John nodded. "That may be ideal. It's been fifteen or twenty years since I rode a bike, but they say you never forget how. You get yours out; I'll go get John Junior's." He turned and began limping more rapidly toward his house. "Hope the tires are still aired up," Rick heard him mutter as he moved away.
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
verb, transitive. To make a person or animal lame.
adjective. Of a person or animal, unable to walk normally because of an injury or illness affecting the leg or foot. Of an explanation or excuse, unconvincingly feeble.
John set forth on his usual early-morning walk, determined to put in his thirty minutes. By the time he met Rick at the end of Rick's driveway, he was limping.
"What's this?" Rick asked, looking at John's right foot.
"Evidently," John stopped and raised the painful foot off the pavement a little, "I have lamed myself."
"Stone bruise?"
John shook his head. "That was what I thought at first. I was walking on that gravel side road just before the pain appeared, so it kind of followed. I've had a stone bruise before, and it always healed within two or three days. This pain has gone on for a week, and it seems to be getting worse. I did some research on this kind of thing online, and it seems to be plantar fasciitis."
Rick's frown became more pronounced. "I've heard that's a long-term thing. Did you run across any quick fixes for it?"
"No, unfortunately." John turned toward the stop sign at the end of their cul-de-sac and gestured for Rick to walk alongside him. "All the credible medical websites advise using the painful foot as little as possible; maybe ice packs. My brother says to roll a tennis ball under the instep, to stretch those ligaments and tendons. I think I'm just stuck like this for awhile." He turned his morose gaze on his companion. "I'm sorry. To the stop sign and back is all I dare do. The last thing I want is to injure it more and make it worse. This really hurts!"
Rick stopped moving. "I don't want that either. Let's just stop."
The two turned and returned the few yards to Rick's driveway, John limping. At Rick's house, they stood for awhile and traded a few tidbits of personal news. Rick looked at his friend then with more hope. Do you have a bicycle?"
"I ... the household has one," John replied. "John Junior never took his when he moved out. He was leery about riding it in the city."
"It's big enough for you, isn't it?"
"Sure."
"Let's cycle, then, instead of walking," Rick suggested. He hesitated, looking tentatively at John to see how the other would react. "If you want to, that is. I exercise a lot more when I do it with someone else. We've been able to do this pretty steadily, and we've both lost a little weight. What do you say?"
John nodded. "That may be ideal. It's been fifteen or twenty years since I rode a bike, but they say you never forget how. You get yours out; I'll go get John Junior's." He turned and began limping more rapidly toward his house. "Hope the tires are still aired up," Rick heard him mutter as he moved away.
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
Sunday, April 8, 2018
Kedge
kedge
verb, transitive. To move (especially a ship or boat) by hauling in a hawser attached to a small anchor dropped at some distance.
verb, intransitive. Of a ship or boat, to move in such a way.
Also a noun.
Marcy ventured one leg out of the canoe and regretted it. Sticky mud engulfed it halfway up her shin. With effort, she retrieved her ankle and foot, relieved that the mud had not sucked off her water sandal.
She turned to look at Hal. "We're grounded. The water fell while we were sleeping."
He grimaced at her stating the obvious, but agreed. "No way we could tell that when we stopped."
They had paddled for more than an hour after dusk began, unsuccessfully seeking a place to spend the night. Finally, after full dark, with only the beams of flashlights to guide them, they had dropped anchor in a quiet eddy downstream of a bend, and slept as best they could, curled in the bottom of the canoe. Marcy's left arm and hip felt bruised where she had lain on the slats without any padding. Suddenly, she felt angry. Why had she agreed to come on this trip with Hal? Ahead, she could see nothing but more conflict between the two of them.
Hal climbed out, sinking into the mud bar where they rested.
"Careful not to lose your shoes," she cautioned.
He nodded, with that same grimace. "You stay there, for now. Pull up the anchor, then tie the long rope to the forward thwart. I want you to brace your feet against that thwart and hold onto that rope. Maybe we can kedge the boat off this bar."
"Maybe we can what?"
"You'll see."
He moved in slow motion through the mud toward the bow of the canoe, then waited while she did as he had instructed. The anchor--a twenty-five-pound free weight, the rope threaded through the hole in its center--was bogged in mud. Marcy avoided Hal's eye as she dragged it to the gunwale, then wiped it as clean as she could with her hands. She didn't want to add any more mud to the boat's interior. After she pulled the anchor in, she turned to the long rope coiled in the bow and knotted it to the thwart.
"Toss me the coil," Hal told her.
He caught it, then began to move, in slow motion again, away from the canoe, feeding out rope as he did. After a few yards, he was off the mudbank and in water. He paused to agitate mud off his feet and lower legs, then moved faster. A few yards further, he was below a stout tree that grew out of the steep bank at an angle, then curved upward. Marcy saw him take a deep breath, then he surged out of the water and up the bank, the rope resting on his near shoulder. Hal clung to the bank somehow and shook the rope to one hand. He tossed it over the tree trunk, then secured it with some kind of hitch. Marcy almost recognized it from the book of knots she had looked at in Hal's apartment. Then, he let himself slide back down to the water and returned to the canoe.
He moved to the stern instead of climbing in. "Pick up the rope, brace your feet on the thwart, and get ready to pull," he instructed. "I'll push from back here."
Marcy obeyed, and began to pull as hard as she could. Nothing happened. She berated herself for skipping the push-ups and pull-ups so many times when she was at the gym. How could she have known that she would need so much more upper-body strength on a canoe trip?
The canoe shifted, maybe half an inch. Encouraged, she got a better grip on the rope and renewed her effort, leaning back so that her weight was balanced between her feet and her arms. When she reached a sort of "sweet spot" of leverage, the canoe moved an encouraging couple of inches. She could hear Hal grunting behind her as he pushed at the stern. Again, the boat moved, further this time. Soon, it began to slide on the mud. Marcy began to get excited. Hal's strategy was working. They were going to get off the mudbank and be able to continue downstream.
"Are we kedging?" she called as she kept up a steady tension on the rope.
"You are kedging. I'm pushing."
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
verb, transitive. To move (especially a ship or boat) by hauling in a hawser attached to a small anchor dropped at some distance.
verb, intransitive. Of a ship or boat, to move in such a way.
Also a noun.
Marcy ventured one leg out of the canoe and regretted it. Sticky mud engulfed it halfway up her shin. With effort, she retrieved her ankle and foot, relieved that the mud had not sucked off her water sandal.
She turned to look at Hal. "We're grounded. The water fell while we were sleeping."
He grimaced at her stating the obvious, but agreed. "No way we could tell that when we stopped."
They had paddled for more than an hour after dusk began, unsuccessfully seeking a place to spend the night. Finally, after full dark, with only the beams of flashlights to guide them, they had dropped anchor in a quiet eddy downstream of a bend, and slept as best they could, curled in the bottom of the canoe. Marcy's left arm and hip felt bruised where she had lain on the slats without any padding. Suddenly, she felt angry. Why had she agreed to come on this trip with Hal? Ahead, she could see nothing but more conflict between the two of them.
Hal climbed out, sinking into the mud bar where they rested.
"Careful not to lose your shoes," she cautioned.
He nodded, with that same grimace. "You stay there, for now. Pull up the anchor, then tie the long rope to the forward thwart. I want you to brace your feet against that thwart and hold onto that rope. Maybe we can kedge the boat off this bar."
"Maybe we can what?"
"You'll see."
He moved in slow motion through the mud toward the bow of the canoe, then waited while she did as he had instructed. The anchor--a twenty-five-pound free weight, the rope threaded through the hole in its center--was bogged in mud. Marcy avoided Hal's eye as she dragged it to the gunwale, then wiped it as clean as she could with her hands. She didn't want to add any more mud to the boat's interior. After she pulled the anchor in, she turned to the long rope coiled in the bow and knotted it to the thwart.
"Toss me the coil," Hal told her.
He caught it, then began to move, in slow motion again, away from the canoe, feeding out rope as he did. After a few yards, he was off the mudbank and in water. He paused to agitate mud off his feet and lower legs, then moved faster. A few yards further, he was below a stout tree that grew out of the steep bank at an angle, then curved upward. Marcy saw him take a deep breath, then he surged out of the water and up the bank, the rope resting on his near shoulder. Hal clung to the bank somehow and shook the rope to one hand. He tossed it over the tree trunk, then secured it with some kind of hitch. Marcy almost recognized it from the book of knots she had looked at in Hal's apartment. Then, he let himself slide back down to the water and returned to the canoe.
He moved to the stern instead of climbing in. "Pick up the rope, brace your feet on the thwart, and get ready to pull," he instructed. "I'll push from back here."
Marcy obeyed, and began to pull as hard as she could. Nothing happened. She berated herself for skipping the push-ups and pull-ups so many times when she was at the gym. How could she have known that she would need so much more upper-body strength on a canoe trip?
The canoe shifted, maybe half an inch. Encouraged, she got a better grip on the rope and renewed her effort, leaning back so that her weight was balanced between her feet and her arms. When she reached a sort of "sweet spot" of leverage, the canoe moved an encouraging couple of inches. She could hear Hal grunting behind her as he pushed at the stern. Again, the boat moved, further this time. Soon, it began to slide on the mud. Marcy began to get excited. Hal's strategy was working. They were going to get off the mudbank and be able to continue downstream.
"Are we kedging?" she called as she kept up a steady tension on the rope.
"You are kedging. I'm pushing."
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
Wednesday, April 4, 2018
Jack
jack
verb, phrasal. As "jack someone around": to cause someone inconvenience or problems. As "jack in or into": to log into or connect up. As "jack something up": to raise something, especially a vehicle, with a jack.
verb, transitive. To take something illicitly, to steal.
Also a noun.
Marie saved her work when she heard the back door open. Larry entered with a heavy sigh and made his way to the armchair by her desk, where he flopped.
She studied his face before she spoke. His forehead was showing a little sunburn; his eyes were puffy; streaks of dirt decorated his cheeks. "How's it going?" she ventured.
"Nowhere." Marie waited, then he continued: "Why do I let you talk me into these things?"
"Talk you into what? You were planning to cut down a tree today regardless."
"Not where you talked me into cutting it," he cried. "Now I've got a forty-foot tree hung up on another tree, and the chainsaw blade is stuck in its trunk. My saw is trapped inside a tree, and it's going to rain."
And it's your fault, Marie mentally finished for him. Thirty years of marriage had taught her not to take the complaint personally. She knew that it was just his frustration talking. The rain wasn't predicted to start for nearly two days. Larry had encountered this situation before when logging and had always managed to solve the problem. Felling trees that stood near other trees was a puzzle that he relished solving, after the initial tirade.
Marie rolled her chair back and reached for his hand. "Let's go look at it," she suggested. After another sigh and a look from him that was half-glare, half-resigned, he rose and followed her outside.
The tree lay diagonally across a small clearing, its top branches resting on a few limbs in two neighboring trees. Larry slowly approached its base, examining the branches above. She followed, but kept her distance. Careful not to step where the leaning trunk could kick back and hit him, Larry studied angles and calculated forces. Marie looked at the tools already in the clearing: a chain, a pry bar, the temporarily-useless chain saw pinched in the tree.... He had already tried several ideas.
"Maybe," Larry mused, sighting up the trunk, "if I jack it up from there," he gestured at a point just above the saw bar, then reached up and forward, aligning his arm with the truck. He rotated his arm from the shoulder, in anticipation of how it would fall after that. "Yeah," he said, "that might do it."
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
verb, phrasal. As "jack someone around": to cause someone inconvenience or problems. As "jack in or into": to log into or connect up. As "jack something up": to raise something, especially a vehicle, with a jack.
verb, transitive. To take something illicitly, to steal.
Also a noun.
Marie saved her work when she heard the back door open. Larry entered with a heavy sigh and made his way to the armchair by her desk, where he flopped.
She studied his face before she spoke. His forehead was showing a little sunburn; his eyes were puffy; streaks of dirt decorated his cheeks. "How's it going?" she ventured.
"Nowhere." Marie waited, then he continued: "Why do I let you talk me into these things?"
"Talk you into what? You were planning to cut down a tree today regardless."
"Not where you talked me into cutting it," he cried. "Now I've got a forty-foot tree hung up on another tree, and the chainsaw blade is stuck in its trunk. My saw is trapped inside a tree, and it's going to rain."
And it's your fault, Marie mentally finished for him. Thirty years of marriage had taught her not to take the complaint personally. She knew that it was just his frustration talking. The rain wasn't predicted to start for nearly two days. Larry had encountered this situation before when logging and had always managed to solve the problem. Felling trees that stood near other trees was a puzzle that he relished solving, after the initial tirade.
Marie rolled her chair back and reached for his hand. "Let's go look at it," she suggested. After another sigh and a look from him that was half-glare, half-resigned, he rose and followed her outside.
The tree lay diagonally across a small clearing, its top branches resting on a few limbs in two neighboring trees. Larry slowly approached its base, examining the branches above. She followed, but kept her distance. Careful not to step where the leaning trunk could kick back and hit him, Larry studied angles and calculated forces. Marie looked at the tools already in the clearing: a chain, a pry bar, the temporarily-useless chain saw pinched in the tree.... He had already tried several ideas.
"Maybe," Larry mused, sighting up the trunk, "if I jack it up from there," he gestured at a point just above the saw bar, then reached up and forward, aligning his arm with the truck. He rotated his arm from the shoulder, in anticipation of how it would fall after that. "Yeah," he said, "that might do it."
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
Sunday, April 1, 2018
Identify
identify
verb, transitive. To establish or indicate who or what someone or something is. To recognize or distinguish. As "identify someone or something with": to associate someone closely with, or to regard someone as having strong links with. To equate.
verb, intransitive. To regard oneself as sharing the same characteristics or thinking as someone else.
The door creaked softly as Tim pushed it. "Hello? Anyone home?" He remained on the threshold, listening, but no one answered or appeared, so he stepped into the apartment.
As soon as he inhaled, he knew that no one had been there for a long time--weeks, maybe. He stirred dust with every step, and the air was stuffy, as if it hadn't moved lately.
"What a dump," he muttered as he approached what passed for the bed: a mattress on the floor in the far corner, covered with creased, stained sheets and a thin blanket. No one had bothered to spread it up, much less make it. He crouched over it, grimacing at the greasy-looking pillowcases and sniffed. He could barely detect the odor of sweat. So, they had been gone for awhile, but not all that long. Seven-to-ten days, maybe.
A gooseneck lamp with a dusty, sixty-watt bulb sat on a cardboard box next to the head of the bed. Beside it, on the matted brown carpet, was an aluminum pie pan that had been used as an ashtray, brimming with cigarette butts. Tim hunkered down to poke through them. They all seemed to be the same brand--brown paper around the filters--but as he stirred them, he spotted a few that were different: filters covered in white paper and stained with lipstick. He lifted one to take a closer look and immediately identified it: her brand; her shade. He dropped the butt and rose to his feet, turning to look at the galley kitchen and the door to the bathroom. She had been here, all right. Now, he needed to find something that would suggest where she might have gone.
He entertained a brief hope that she and the man she had stayed with in this apartment might have split up when they left, but realized that that probably wasn't the case. She hated being alone. It was one of the reasons she was no longer living with Tim.
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
verb, transitive. To establish or indicate who or what someone or something is. To recognize or distinguish. As "identify someone or something with": to associate someone closely with, or to regard someone as having strong links with. To equate.
verb, intransitive. To regard oneself as sharing the same characteristics or thinking as someone else.
The door creaked softly as Tim pushed it. "Hello? Anyone home?" He remained on the threshold, listening, but no one answered or appeared, so he stepped into the apartment.
As soon as he inhaled, he knew that no one had been there for a long time--weeks, maybe. He stirred dust with every step, and the air was stuffy, as if it hadn't moved lately.
"What a dump," he muttered as he approached what passed for the bed: a mattress on the floor in the far corner, covered with creased, stained sheets and a thin blanket. No one had bothered to spread it up, much less make it. He crouched over it, grimacing at the greasy-looking pillowcases and sniffed. He could barely detect the odor of sweat. So, they had been gone for awhile, but not all that long. Seven-to-ten days, maybe.
A gooseneck lamp with a dusty, sixty-watt bulb sat on a cardboard box next to the head of the bed. Beside it, on the matted brown carpet, was an aluminum pie pan that had been used as an ashtray, brimming with cigarette butts. Tim hunkered down to poke through them. They all seemed to be the same brand--brown paper around the filters--but as he stirred them, he spotted a few that were different: filters covered in white paper and stained with lipstick. He lifted one to take a closer look and immediately identified it: her brand; her shade. He dropped the butt and rose to his feet, turning to look at the galley kitchen and the door to the bathroom. She had been here, all right. Now, he needed to find something that would suggest where she might have gone.
He entertained a brief hope that she and the man she had stayed with in this apartment might have split up when they left, but realized that that probably wasn't the case. She hated being alone. It was one of the reasons she was no longer living with Tim.
Definitions adapted from The New Oxford American Dictionary, Oxford University Press, Inc., 2005 (eBook Edition, copyright 2008), and from Webster's Seventh New Collegiate Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam Company, Publishers, Springfield, Massachusetts, USA, 1965, depending on which is more convenient to hand.
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