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 |  Fire and Blood |
 Targaryen Musings "Game of Thrones"  -- Notes of StephBee   House Targaryen from playing Games of Thrones, April 2024.
FELLOW 2024 DRAGONS: iKïyå§ama  JACE  Choconut  GERVIC 🐉 WDC Dragon Vale  StaiNed-  The Game involved visiting places like: The House of Black & White, The North Remembers, The Endless Night, Westeros, King's Landing.
Challenges included: Writing - Poems, Flash Fiction, Short stories Reviewing - 1500 characters not counting WDC ML. Interactive Chapters Birthday/Account Anniversaries Activities Cheer points and Tedious Citadel Tasks. All activities are recorded in this Game of Thrones Blog. House Targaryen came in 2nd Place! Enjoy the productivity of this blog! |
| Door 20 Prompt: ▼ Slow Down & Enjoy the Grass Word Count: 966 Daisy the Heifer looked up from her patch of grass. Mind you, it was a tasty patch of grass. No preservatives or pesticides. The best kind. Sigh. There was Barbie the chicken clucking her fool head off as Randy Rooster started following her around. She never cared for Randy. Dwayne “The Cock” Rooster was more to her liking. Darla stepped out of her wooden house. It was a little crooked with seven gables, but hey, Darla was like that. She whistled on her way over to the hog pen, in her own little la-la land. On the weekends you could find her at Javier’s showing him designs and watching him work. Daisy suspected Javier was a little soft on Darla. Well, someone had to be. Darla was what the humans called a teenager. She was thin and full of energy. She loved to draw, but boy, that girl was always lost in her imagination. Javier was another teenager. That one loved adventure. Those two went together like peas and carrots. Darla made her way to the shed that carried the hog feed. The pigs ate a lot of what the humans called rice, corn, and carrots. Sometimes Darla’s younger brother, Fussy, would give the hogs bread. Personally speaking, Daisy really didn’t care for rice. She much preferred grass, corn, and carrots. Darla went to the spicket and poured some water into a bucket. Then she filled the hog trough. Over in the next pen, Sweetie, Cutie, and Rusty Horses snorted and glared at Darla. Maybe they were hungry. Tom the Turkey strutted by and fluffed his feathers. He was just as bad as Penny the Peacock the next farm over. Darla’s family had some sheep, too. Daisy counted on her hooves. Four sheep. They were pretty fluffy, too. Daisy thought she overheard Darla’s dad plotting to take the sheep for a haircut. Fussy opened the door to the house. “Darla, come get this bread for the hogs!” Darla waved him off, turned her back to him and started scooping hog feed into the food trough. Mind you, there were only four pigs – Henny, Harry, Hugo and Hallie. Hallie was about to have a litter. “Darla!” “Stop Fussing! Feed the pigs the bread yourself!” Fussy huffed and puffed and walked out to the pig pen. Daisy went back to her grass patch. Dexter was lying down in a sunbeam nearby. Darrow and Dixie were a little further back in the field munching on fresh grass, too. In the distance, Daisy heard Darla’s father, Pa, coming down the hill with the sheep. Daisy glanced over and made a made a face. Those sheep got a haircut, all right! Fussy tore open the hog pen. Darla threw some slop toward a trough, missed, and threw the pile of food on the other side of the gate. The hogs started rooting and rushed the gate. They pushed Fussy over and the bread went flying sky high in the air. Darla let out an exasperated sigh. Typical Fussy. He scrambled to feet covered in dirt. Daisy looked on. This might be entertaining. All the hogs ran out of the gate and started lapping at the food. Then Tom Turkey started gobbling at them, they snorted, and the next thing Daisy knew, Harry and Hugo were chasing Tom. He started squawking, and the chickens started the clucking. Daisy tried to suppress a chuckle. What a sight! Henry and Hugo chasing Tom who was stirring up the chickens. The next thing Daisy saw were those four poor, hairless sheep chasing after the hogs. Maybe they smelled bacon? “Go fetch those hogs and stop Fussing!” cried Darla. Pa ran over. “Who left the hog pen open?” “Darla!” “Franky!” Franky? Daisy thought his name was Fussy. She called him that all the time. Oh, no! Tom was heading this way. Daisy moo’d. She didn’t want to be a part of that disaster. Ollie the sheepdog began chasing the sheep who were running after the hogs who were snorting after the turkey, and the chickens were running around like their head’s had been cut off. Hot Mess. Sweetie walked over to her side of the fence and neighed. Daisy slid over. “That’s a diaster.” “Yeah,” said Daisy. “I thought the kid’s name was Fussy,” neighed Sweetie. “So did I.” “Darla, start running after the chickens and get them in the coop!” said Pa. She ran after the chickens. Ollie started after the sheep. The hogs were determined to get their teeth on Tom Turkey. “Who knew those hogs liked turkey?” Sweetie neighed. “Yeah, who knew?” Daisy watched, fascinated at the scene before her. Darla was doing a good job rounding up the chickens and the sheep followed Ollie. Fussy, ah Frankie, was trying to entice the hogs with his bread, but it was turkey or bust. Pa grabbed Daisy’s cowbell and started ringing it. The hogs stopped. Daisy frowned. That was her cowbell! Dexter and Dixie came running up next to Daisy. “What’s going on?” “The hogs want to eat the turkey,” said Dixie. Ollie got the sheep into their pen and used his paw to shut the door. Pa ran after the hogs and guided them toward the pen with the bell. Fussy threw his bread into the pen and they ran in. Darla’s locked the gate. Tom stopped gobbling and ran off to the turkey shack. Pa stopped ringing the cowbell, grabbed a rag, and wiped his face. “Who started it?” asked Dexter. “Fussy,” moo’d Daisy. “Them humans. They should slow down a little and enjoy the grass,” replied Dexter. He went back to his grass patch. Daisy let out a sigh of relief and watched as Pa chewed out Darla and Fussy. There was never a dull moment when humans were around.  |
| Door 19 Prompt: ▼ Word Count: 233 It was the weekend. Actually, it was the last weekend of Games of Thrones on Writing.com. Time for that MAD push to get to the end. All hands on deck! It’s like being in college and cramming for that mid-term that’s due at midnight and it’s 8:00 p.m. I had all good intentions of hanging in there for the final push. I stocked up on my fufu coffee. Re-plenished my stickie notes and pens. I even got a bone for the dog to chew so he would leave me alone. Then my husband said, “Let’s go hang out at beach on Saturday.” The beach. My ULTIMATE happy spot. We usually go to Ventura harbor, walk around, eat at the local seafood place called Andreia’s, and then visit the outlet malls. It’s a nice, easy-going relaxing day. Believe me, the temptation was high. “But I gotta’ outwit, outlast, and outplay the Game of Thrones, Honey.” “Huh? That show ended in 2019.” He would never understand, trust me. It was a big decision. Go on a one day vacation and miss out on several hours worth of production, or stay in the house and type my fingers to death, and miss out on Andreia’s fresh seafood. Time to write myself out of the story, folks. I’m off to Ventura for a great seafood lunch and retail therapy at the outlet malls. See you on Sunday! |
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Rest those bony fingers and eat seafood and shop. You'll be all relaxed and ready to go to battle, again. 
