Search Results for 'delighted'

Consuela perused her E Flapper for costume ideas, and was delighted to find that this era was “particularly identified with hair and makeup as these became such potent symbols of aristocracy during the Enlightenment and French Revolution. France and (to a lesser degree) England were the fashion leaders of this era”.

The more I ponder the random quote, the more delighted I am with it.

Belle Endwhistle received the telepathic call from Skye while she was floating on the cool aqua pool in The City. Belle, affectionately known as Bee, was one of the surge teams helpers from the “other side”. She had always had a particular fondness for cars, hats and vintage designer dresses; before the surge team was initiated, she had often turned up in dreams, driving a flying red car and wearing a variety of outlandish hats. Bee been delighted to accept the offer to chauffeur the fleet of red cars, and always enjoyed meeting old friends on the physical side.

Flinella was delighted to discover “tatting” scored her 57 points in Wordplay, enough to put her 22 points in the lead. She stretched contentedly, and wondered how much longer the dragon would be. Not that she was unhappy on the island; it was surely a beautiful island and she considered herself blessed, especially when she considered the alternatives.

“Yet another splendid piece of synchronicity!” The Leprechaun praised himself, while eyeing the delicious-looking chocolate cake with three layers of vanilla cream that simply willed itself into different flavours before his delighted, excited taste buds. Just as he was about to take his first bite into the scrumptious cake, a multi-coloured portal opened before his very eyes. Unsurprisingly, the host of elves, each in a different physical manifestation, jumped out of the portal and dusted the stardust off their garments.

“Mr Leprechaun,” one elf began. He took the form of a Spanish gentleman by the name of Raul Iniesta. “Raul” (as he will be called for the time being until he shifts shape) had long, black hair that he had no intention of bounding, instead allowing its blackness to flow freely upon his neck and over his shoulders like a nightly waterfall of moonlight and starry gazes. He had an almond-shaped face, and his skin was gently golden-brown, as if his physical birth took place on a beach at sunset. His eyes were sea-blue, glimmering gently in the luminescence of his own aura. He spoke in a gentle voice that was mightily influenced by a touch of spanish mixed with french accents.
“I see you have taken the form of a Leprechaun-” Raul stepped closer to observe the essence’s current physical. “How quaint.”
The Leprechaun dryly stared at Raul. “I don’t see anything wrong with my physical form Mr INIESTA,” he replied, placing emphatic strain on ‘Iniesta’. “Would it have made any difference if I were a flower?”
“If you were a flower you’d fit perfectly with my body of hair!” Raul exclaimed. The Tw’Elves laughed heartily at the joke, and an iridescent beam of energy simultaneously rose from their esoteric beings, giving forth a ray of happiness, albeit for a short while, towards the inhabitants of the sleeping dimension.

“How nice you look in that yellow “ said the charming Neb in a deep voice with not even a hint of a squeak. “Are you on your way somewhere special?”

“Another excellent question, Neb!” exclaimed Mc Tart. “I suspect I am always on my way somewhere, although often precisely where I am on my way to is anybody’s guess!”

Mc Tart was delighted with Neb and his endless questions and so, with arms outstretched and hem flapping in the breeze, she did a little whirl around the room to demonstrate her approval. “Whoooooooooosh indeed!” she shouted gleefully.

“We need your help” the strangely familiar voice had said, and then enigmatically, “In Pea Sauce Ways.” All loved a riddle

(LizAnn decided to leave the typographical error in the manucrept)

Ann loved a riddle, and was delighted to discover this unexpected and charmingly bizarre clue, particularly as it hinted at green, which would be perfect with all the blue, she thought.

“Good grief, I don’t feel so bad about my face now”, said Phenol, who, as the stranger predicted, had reappeared.

“What sort of help?” asked Lavender suspiciously.

“We would be delighted to offer any assistance we can” gushed Ann, glaring at Lavender.

Ann felt herself being sucked into the spiral of blue light and wondered if the vortex was messing with her head, or perhaps she should cut back on the weeds? “Well, not to worry, this feels like it could be a jolly fun adventure!” Privately Ann thought the stranger was rather good looking too, in a blue sort of a way.

Lavender, who thought the stranger looked weirdo, rolled her eyes and wondered whether to call Harvey. She was becoming concerned about Ann, who seemed a little more blurred at the edges than usual, and whose skin had taken on a slight blue tinge. At least she had stopped all that irritating coughing though.

“When in doubt, hug!” shouted Phenol, throwing ITs arms around Lavender. “Come on! Group Hug!”

“Oh a group hug, how lovely!” giggled Ann, lunging at the stranger, who had become strangely quiet.

One thing led to another, as it tends to do, while Sanso sat meditating on the enigma of The Dead Cow. Random and seemingly disjointed images flashed through his mind, not unlike a random google had been back in the old days, the first being an odd word, Kogaionon . Accessing further information, Sanso discovered that it was an ancient Transylvaniun skull. The link between the dead cow and the skull was clear ~ it was a bone sync, they both had bones, there was no denying it. Encouraged, Sanso continued to meditate.

After some images of a battle at sea , presumably Trafalgar, Sanso intuitively felt, he heard the words “Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” Wise words, he thought, and appropriate too. He popped these snippets into his indigo clue bag and continued to meditate. An image of a strange creature, half fish and half lion appeared next, a Merlion, which quickly morphed into an entertaining old movie playing across the screen of his minds eye, so to speak, in which someone who reminded him of Becky arrived in Paris during a rainstorm with just the clothes on her back ~ and interesting clothes they were, too! Sanso was glued to the screen, in a manner of speaking, and watched with amusement as a whole new wardrobe was delivered to the puzzled woman, followed by her mysterious benefactor: Georges.

Well, fancy Georges turning up again like that! Sanso was delighted. Perhaps Georges could shed some light on the mystery of the Dead Cow Blocking the Cave Entrance.

Sanso returned to his meditation and found himself eavesdropping on a conversation.

— Well, and Sanso, and Georges then, are they dead or what? How come Dory can see them?
— These ones are special, they have mastered the crossing of the Worlds, and can move through them. They move differently though. Sanso comes from a lineage of an ancient tribe of Zion, and had learn from them how to activate some portals, but only through the physical world of Dory, in their own time. He is not yet aware that he can also move through time as well, or even through other Worlds — worlds that he has no conception of yet.
Georges is more consummate in that art. Their meeting is not coincidental. You will see that.
— Thank you Grandad, it’s becoming a bit less confusing.
— Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it.

“Their meeting is not coincidental” Sanso repeated to himself, popping it into his clue bag. “Well, I don’t know about Meanings, but at least I have a new bag of clues now!”

a bluish little girl was unaware of what was happening but she was drawn to singing in the tall grass.

The advertisement said “Do You have the Ability to Feel a Scout?”

Annabel Ingman beamed, delighted. Four perfect guys and 57 more to love! I can’t wait to start!

It was quite thrilling and new.

“Focus on fun. Say whatever you want, and you’ll be Oliver Twist on Friday.”

Cool!

#87 Quintin had a woman near London ~ a strange small replicate, put here for gracious officials. Strangely linked to the story, was Dory. The other participants didn’t really expect this quaint dream…

Dory made Quintin in Madagascar for the first time. Funny, but now they seemed to connect to Arona. Malvina disappeared, and once again Arona found this quite irritating. She could barely remember the music.

Really, things are shifting. In the name of heaven use magic I Scream or something!

A Man emerged from Arona’s lap. This is great, more comfortable than the ground.

Oh cute, said Arona, a talking Man, love your cape by the way.

Arona stroked Man. It was all feeling heat and humidity… and especially her hunger. Man sighed in an eggs sort of a way. She exclaimed delightedly, hugging the Man.

[¹] Note from the editor: Man being a noble reader

~~~~

Dory was dry, with strange hard shoulders and face. Her shawl finally surfaced flapping in time to a cloud of dust.

PPFFT! I’m all on my own. Dory was momentarily speechless.

Indeed, Frantic was more than delighted to help out any of her students. It was her desire, her passion even, that they should succeed in her classes. She chastened herself mentally for making the assumption that all her students would be able to find some reference point in their past to assist them with her assignment. However, as she explained to Pedro, it was not essential for a writer to experience everything they wrote about. What was necessary was a willingness to research. Knowing the boy liked to read, she offered him an extensive reading list of appropriate material, plus a few Mills and Boons she just happened to have in her handbag, and sent him on his way.

She was more surprised than anyone when the janitor came to her the next morning and confessed what had happened in the service room. Apparently he had … well lets not go there, she thought, what is done is done and no harm will come of it if they both keep quiet. The little bouquet of flowers he gave her as an apology gift (GIFT – SEE THE GIFT TP) did much to allay her concern. And at least the boy will have something to write about now.

As she put the flowers in water she pondered her next assignment. She could see she would have to give this much careful thought in order to avoid future embarrassing service room encounters.

“It’s the 57th Creative Challenge theme, so I have to do it,” Ann remarked to her editor. “Obviously”, she added.

“What do you mean, obviously?” asked her editor (Ann had forgotten his new name in the second book, and toyed breifly with the idea of making up a new one ~ perhaps Rumbold the Pale?)

“Well, I would have thought that was obvious, Godfrey!” Ann replied tartly, secretly delighted that she’d remembered the old boy’s name. Notwithstanding, Ann continued to make little ‘cuh’ and ‘tut’ noises, and rolled her eyes a bit, until Godfrey eventually replied.

“Spiggot on the spike freak, Lingenburg Dash”.

“I beg your pardon?” Ann looked at Godfrey in astonishment. “Holy Moly, I said that earlier myself, whatever does it mean?”

“I haven’t got a clue, dear,” he replied. “Just popped into my head, you know, how it does…” His voice trailed off as he stared into space.

“I’ll google it.” As Ann started the search, she realized she’d completely forgotten that she was doing the 57th Creative Challenge entry. “Blimey O Riley, what am I LIKE” she said to herself, with a wry grin ~ she wasn’t altogether sure what wry meant, but somehow she felt it was wry ~ “Now what was the theme again?”

“Misery Loves Company” Godfrey piped up. “And dare I say, it’s rather obvious what has occurred here.”

“What do you mean, obvious?” retorted Ann, somewhat snarkily, although nowhere near as snarkily as Lavender might have said it.

Godfrey resisted the urge to respoond with a few little ‘cuh’s’ and ‘tut’s’, and chose to simply smile enigmatically.

Ann scowled at her old freind and said “If you don’t spell it out, you maddening old coot, I’ll write you out of this story. I’ll delete you.”

“You can write me out of YOUR story if you wish, but I may continue to write YOU into MY story.”

“Oh Gawd, WHAT?” Ann said to herself. “Where did that come from?”

“Ann, let me explain.”

“You sound just like Elias, Godfrey!”

“Ha! Ha! Ha!”

“Ahahahahahahah”

“Now shut up and pay attention”

“Elias would never say that”

“That’s YOU saying that, Ann, to yourself,” said Godfrey.

“YOU said that Godfrey, it’s right here in black and white!” retorted Ann.

“It’s never black and white, Ann, and it’s only here in black and white as ME saying it because YOU wrote it.”

“Well there’s no answer to that” replied Ann. She went to put the kettle on.

Ann returned to her computer with a steaming mug of tea.

“Now, shall we get back to the point, Ann?” inquired Godfrey, with a wry grin.

“I must look up that word later”, Ann mused. “I seem to be inordinately fond of the word wry tonight, I wonder why. I Wonder Wry…”

“ANN!” Godfrey shouted. “Back to the point!”

Ann looked pained. “What point?”

“The point of this story, and the obvious occurence therein.”

“Welp, you’ve lost me there, Gordon, there was a point?”

“Oh My God, this could go on all night” Gordon was wringing his hands.

“Good God Gordon, didn’t see you come in!” exclaimed Godfrey.

Ann was giggling helplessly. She was rather pleased with the way she covered her faux pas over the editors name.

“‘Ann was giggling helplessly’; you see Ann, there is your clue!” Godfrey said excitedly, as he read aloud what Ann had just written.

“OH! NOW I get it! D’oh! Nonsense loves company! Giggling loves company! No wonder I couldn’t stay focused on misery!”

Arthur Bickerswell-Snodley had been delighted to receive Ann’s invitation to stay with her at Little Big Hopeswell for the May Day weekend. He hadn’t seen Ann for 570 years, although they had remained in contact through the years, at first by old fashioned handwritten letters, and later by email —as well, of course, by telepathic means and out of body rendezvous— but this was to be an actual physical visit.

Arthur travelled by train to Chipping Else Hampton, where Jibblington, Ann’s chauffeur and general dogsbody, met him in the old jalopy, a rather grand old Silver Ghost Rolls.
Jibblington, it must be stated, worked part time for Ann, as did the enigmatic cleaning lady, Franlise — both were merely aspects of much larger personalities elsewhere engaged in myriad pursuits. Jibblington was a much of a mystery to Ann as dear Franlise was, not to mention old Godfrey Pig Littleton. Godrey’s flooh, in point of fact, had been the catalyst behind Ann’s invitation to Arthur.

While Jibblington and Bickerswell-Snodley glided along the country lanes, cushioned and buoyant in the silver car’s plush, if a trifle vulgar, crimson upholstery, Ann tutted in exasperation as Godfrey pestered her to finish her latest entry to the Play.

“I haven’t finished it yet, Godfrey, sheesh!” she exclaimed. “OK, OK!” Godfrey was rather rudely drumming his fingers on her desk. “Here, you can read what I’ve written so far.”

Yoland woke up feeling lighter somehow. The sun was shining, the young puppy, Phunn, scampered about without a care in the world as she perused the morning mail. The random daily Circle of Eight’s quote once again delighted her, synchronizing with her recent meditation.

“Fiona woke suddenly from a dream. In her dream she had been communicating with her online friends, through drawings and messages. She had been trying so hard to convey something, and the more she tried to say it, the more distant they felt to her.

She had woken feeling saddened. Her energy was greatly disturbed, and, unable to get back to sleep straight away, she meditated. She felt herself connect with the energy of a Snowy Owl, who invited her wordlessly to ask her questions. The Owl’s eyes seemed to have such a depth of wisdom and kindness, and no sooner had her thoughts begun to ask their questions, than she would feel the Owl’s answer merge with her own knowing.

She felt herself being able to say without words what she had tried so hard in her dream to convey, and understanding there was no need for any effort, she felt greatly comforted, and peaceful sleep swept over her again.”

Yoland had sent an email to her freind KX about her meditation, as her freind had unexpectedly popped up in it, in a wonderful pastel watercolour world:

_{The elevator stopped with a shudder and the doors slammed open. The landscape looked a bit too airy fairy for me (not real enough, haha!) and I nearly got back in the elevator. It was all aqua blue and pastel and floaty, like a watercolour world. Then I saw you, waving your arms around, painting the air with trails of pastel colours with your fingertips. You were smiling and wearing a pale blue shirt. You wrapped me round with spirals of colours from your fingertips and then I flew upwards into the dark blue. You tossed me a paper toilet roll to use as a silver cord, which I tossed back to you after a bit cos it felt a bit silly, and then you sent a burst of colours as an acknowledgement}

KX had responded:

“Yoland!!That is very very cool! I’ve been “out there”! I’ll bet you I was changing the toilet paper roll at the moment you were in the Watercolor World ! Meanwhile so many things are coming together for me in how to create and how to hold my attention where I want it… Imagination is a key ~ Love you! I will beam over in a minute. KX”

Smiling, Yoland checked the latest blog updates. Sahila had posted some Possum photos, and the first thing that Yoland saw was the white owl in the fork of the tree behind the possum.

The Fellowship wish to extend our greetings to you young lady, and to thank you most sincerely for gracing us with your delightful presence.

Lavender smiled encouragingly at the pointy headed gentleman who was welcoming her so warmly. Still, she was wondering anxiously why she had been summoned to this meeting of the Fellowship, when her little Essence was not due for another two days.

Thank you, it is I who am honoured to be here. she responded politely.

The Speaker smiled benignly at her. I sense your anxiety. Let me assure you there is no reason for concern. We are very happy with your pregnancy. However we did encounter some unexpected challenges. Perhaps, it is best if you just see for yourself.

He nodded to one of the Helpers, who waited like silent black shadows around the edges of the room. The Helper disappeared, and returned a moment later carrying a large bundle, which appeared to be wiggling vigorously. The Helper laid the bundle gently at Lavender’s feet and unwrapped the cover. Three little striped piglets emerging, squealing indignantly.

Yes, smiled the Speaker. We are delighted to inform you that your pregnancy has resulted in triplet piglets. I am sure even though this is unexpected, you will be as thrilled as we here at the Fellowship are.

Lavender hoped Aspidistra liked piglets as much as the Fellowship clearly did …

tut tut, Finnley rolled her eyes and shook her head simultaneously, then so delighted with her skill, did it again.
What IS Mr Arak going to say when he sees all the tooll calls Elizabeth has been making to Noo Zooland?

Everyone had been disappointed that the Day of the Dead Party had been a wash out, cancelled because of the torrential rain. An alternative date had not yet been set for the boulder moving party, and the interior of the mysterious mound was to remain an enigma for a while longer.

Dan had been frankly relieved about the cancellation, preferring to get sodden on the Volderama golf course instead. He’d been delighted to meet Sergio Garcia there, especially as his old friend Juani Ramirez had had a dream several years previously about him and Sergio.

Dory and Becky were disappointed though. They’d both been consumed with curiosity about the mound and it’s blue tiled interior and were eager to explore the inside physically, rather than with the customary psychic investigations and meditations. Never the less, they were both aware that when the time was right, everything would slot into place.

There was much to keep them occupied, what with the time travelling mouse that was camped behind the microwave oven, and the impending arrival of Granny Hill.
Becky had named the mouse Will, short for Will O’ The Wisp, but that was before she knew that he was a time traveller. She left him a variety of tasty morsels next to the toaster, which Will took to his hide-out — Marie biscuits, dried cranberries, little chunks of Swiss cheese, and sometimes an almond or two. She left him a piece of lettuce and two sweet corn kernels once, but he hadn’t been at all interested. Obviously Will wasn’t a victim of nutrition beliefs, and Becky was impressed.

Wondering what else Will might like to eat for variety, and because she was beginning to realize that this wasn’t just any old ordinary mouse, Becky sent a message to Dory’s friend Mac Brock, who always seemed to be able to pull interesting information out of his hat. Mac’s wife Wanda replied first, confirming Becky’s impression that this was no ordinary mouse, but in fact contained an energy fleck of Tarkin, the Brocks non-physical friend from the future. Shortly afterwards, Mac replied, saying that Will-Tarkin liked asparagus.

Asparagus! Becky found that quite funny, because ‘asparagus’ had been the code word that the time travellers had said that they would use. She had been looking forward to meeting a time traveller. Little did she know that the first time traveller to come and stay at her house would be a mouse!