Monday, May 23, 2022

The latest NPR Sunday Puzzle! Using clues and adding the alphabet D to find words!

I'm going to give you clues for two words. Add the letter D at the end of the answer to the first clue to get the answer to the second one.

Example: Wild hog / Get on, as a train --> BOAR/D


 

1. Person who saves the day / Biblical king

 

2. German wife / Criminal activity

 

3. Smile / Use a whetstone

 

4. Prayer ending / Alter

 

5. Peruse / Total up again

 

6. Lumbering forest animal (2 words) / Famous pirate

 

Answer Keys

    1.  hero/ Herod

    2.  frau/ fraud

    3.  grin/grind

    4.  Amen/amend

    5.  read/re-add

    6.  black bear/ Black Beard

Thursday, May 19, 2022

Dr. Jedidiah's Diary Episode #86: Ted who should have become a Baker, not a Shooter

Dr. Jedidiah’s Diary

Dr. Jedidiah is a psychiatrist who loves traveling, meeting new people, and exploring different cultures. As a single father who lost his wife to drug overdose 10 years ago, he has not been his old perky self for the last decade. During those hard years, he has met hundreds of, thousands of people from various walks of life around all over the world. Meeting new people and listening to their stories outside his office have given him different feelings from the ones through the formal encounter groups or being truly honest with himself. Here is Dr. Jedidiah’s monologue that has left him with some food for thoughts in life…. or a fodder to justify his own mistakes in the past.

 

Episode #86. Ted who should have become a Baker, not a Shooter

One of the most vivid flashbacks to my childhood has always been coming with the freshly backed peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies in my mind. Whenever my friends came over to my house, my mother baked a bunch of nutty and sweet cookies for me and my buddies. The occasions for our meet-ups at home did not matter for my mom to take out her baking sheets and a huge mixing bowl. While the heavenly and flavorful aroma of cookies was wafting all around mom’s kitchen and filling the entire house, my friends and I were shooting hoops, reading cartoons, watching horror flicks, giggling over the topic of girls – because boys, including myself, were inaptly describing girls as classmates with cooties in those days – and doing homework together. 

Such sweet memories of the “I-would-never-trade for-the world” kind of cookies turned into somewhat tenebrific and bilious one since I lost one of those tight buddies named Ted who’d come to my house. Ted was the one who enjoyed my mom’s cookies the most. Mom liked to see him pacing around in the kitchen and asking “Mrs. J, can I have your cookies now? When are they ready to taste?” Then, mom smiled and said “Just wait another 10 minutes. They’ll all be yours, Ted.”


 


When we turned 17 years old, Ted’s father often took us all to the outdoor shooting range near his castle-like mansion. Some of us found the masculine sports of shooting very attractive and enjoyed the time to the fullest like a gallant soldier. But it was not right up Ted’s or my alley, because we were not belligerent lads at all. Ted would apologize to me for the unwanted pastime at the shooting range by saying “Please, excuse my dad’s incurable Thalassophobia. He gets bored if a week passes by without the gunshot noise around him. Just hate it each time he takes me out to this range, but can’t help it. He never listens to me although he knows that I don’t like to have a gun in my hands.” Ted’s eyes would tell me that he’d love to sit back in the cozy nook of my mom’s kitchen, munching on her one-of-a-kind home-baked cookies. When he said his dream job is to bake all different kinds of cookies and become a well-known patisserie chef one day, Ted’s father was furious. He wanted his son to be a politician who would be powerful enough to challenge gun control laws in major cities throughout the U.S. As the then head of the NRA, Ted’s father was adamant that his son should be the most empowered figure in this society in every way. Seeing Ted wearing a baker’s hat with a kneading roll in his hand instead of a gun was not even a joke to his father. Admitting the difference between his son and himself was a nonstarter.

 


It was a brutally chilly winter night that I heard about Ted’s suicide. At Ted’s funeral, I did not cry. I was full of unutterable emotions. It was not just a feeling of sorrow or despair. My friends and I were speechless when we were told that Ted shot himself with his father’s favorite pocket pistol in the tatterdemalion shooting range where he was so reluctantly joining his father’s shooting spree. I thought over and over again to imagine what came to Ted’s mind on that painfully cold winter night out there in the place that he hated the most. ‘Was he thinking about those silly days when he was savoring my mom’s cookies? Was he visualizing himself in his own bakery, patting a dough and buttering the sheets?’ The cookies that I baked with my mom’s recipe were the only gift for Ted at his funeral. The regular gang of friends who used to come to my house said nothing but kept eating the cookies I brought. The look on their faces and mine at that moment must be like ‘this cookie tastes like dust.’

 

Expressions

    1.  to waft: to pass or cause to pass easily or gently through or as if through the air

    2.   to shoot hoops: to play basketball, especially casually by simply shooting and not engaging in a game

    3.   inaptly: not suited to circumstances: improperly, inappropriately, incongruously

    4.  cooties: a children's term for an imaginary germ or repellent quality transmitted by obnoxious or slovenly people

    5.  tenebrific: dark, gloomy

    6.   bilious: spiteful/ bad-tempered

    7.  gallant: brave/ heroic/ courageous

    8.  right up one’s alley: in one's specialty, to one's taste

    9.  belligerent: hostile or aggressive/ war-like

   10. thalassophobia: fear of bordom

   11. NRA: National Rifle Association

   12.   adamant: refusing to be persuaded or to change one's mind

   13. nonstarter: a person, plan, or idea that has no chance of succeeding or being effective

   14. tatterdemalion: unkempt

Sunday, May 15, 2022

Let's make a new bunch of 8-letter-words by adding two letters!

Here is the latest Sunday Word Puzzle aired on NPR today. I'm going to give you some six-letter words. Insert two new letters between the first and second letters of my word to make a familiar eight-letter word.



Example: BEHEAD --> BONEHEAD

1. ATOMIC

2. SUNKEN

3. LAMENT

4. MAROON

5. ORATOR

6. DONATE

7. CINDER

8. INSIDE

9. HACKER

 

Answer Keys

    1.  anatomic

    2.  shrunken

    3.  ligament

    4.  macaroon

    5.  operator

    6.  detonate

    7.  cylinder

    8.  ironside

    9.  hijacker

Wednesday, May 4, 2022

The latest NPR Sunday Puzzle aired on May 1st

I'm going to give you some four-letter words. Name a capital city that conceals each word in consecutive letters.

 



(*picture source: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-7399879/European-capital-cities-dominate-list-worlds-FASTEST-public-transport-systems.html) 

Example: THEN --> ATHENS

1. OPEN

2. QUIT

3. SINK

4. PEST

5. LUMP

6. DISH

7. TO-DO

 

ANSWER KEYS

1.  Copenhagen

2.  Quito

3.  Helsinki

4.  Budapest

5.  Kuala Lumpur

6.  Mogadishu

7.  Santo Domingo

Monday, May 2, 2022

Dr. Jedidiah's Diary Episode #85: Anna, the Storyteller's World of Enigma

 Dr. Jedidiah’s Diary

Dr. Jedidiah is a psychiatrist who loves traveling, meeting new people, and exploring different cultures. As a single father who lost his wife to drug overdose 10 years ago, he has not been his old perky self for the last decade. During those hard years, he has met hundreds of, thousands of people from various walks of life around all over the world. Meeting new people and listening to their stories outside his office have given him different feelings from the ones through the formal encounter groups or being truly honest with himself. Here is Dr. Jedidiah’s monologue that has left him with some food for thoughts in life…. or a fodder to justify his own mistakes in the past.

 

Episode #85. Anna, the Storyteller’s World of Enigma

Everybody in the novel writing club thought of her as the weirdest story teller. When I first met Anna in that weekly meet-up, I was one of those that saw her as an eccentric or clueless person who happened to end up with a small cohort of story writers. She had ghostly pale skin in a bony figure, and all the stories she wrote and shared were way above our normal range of understanding as an ordinary flesh and blood. Quite often times, the way she opened her stories sounded so anomalous and out of key to me that I could hardly ever concentrate on the rest of her chapters. Anna seemed like a ledge on the outside of a tall building. That is, members, including myself, in the club would not wish to welcome, her because her hideous creations gave us goosebumps, but on the other hand, her one-of-a-kind stories would play the role of extending our imagination to the point of experiencing maximum thrills outside our own comfort zones.

 


Anna takes delight in finding the club members secretly embarrassed while reading her stories in which they faced their own hidden side of evil selves. Sometimes members try to partially shadow-ban Anna’s fictions in our club blog and did not let her have a chance to elaborate on her stories. However, it was not a big deal for Anna to be gradually ousted by the members. She just wanted to remind people of some untold side of their lives and think about it at least once a week. I was wondering what she tried to show us all with her stories. When I asked if her fictitious stories had any intentions of giving us some awakening moments, she quietly gave me a sardonic smile. She said “My Irish Grandma was a born story teller and went by the name of a great sennachie in town. She used to be surrounded by all her grandkids in holiday seasons. One thing that still puzzled me is that my grandma always changed her voice once her story began. Not in a warm, soft voice that tucks a child in bed though. I could feel the tiny trembling wavelengths in her voice, and it gave me and my cousins the creeps, which had never been felt anywhere before. Well…I know most of my stories I’ve made up here must have sounded gnarled, grotesque, and somewhat uncomfortable to you guys, because I know she had inspired me from my childhood. The picture of my grandma still runs through my head like an old witch doctor. The way she smiled was more of a twitch, which seemed to catch anyone who failed to comport himself in front of her.”


“What was the purpose of your grandma’s bed time stories? Just to scare off her grandkids that did not behave themselves?” I knew my questions would be evaporating into the air without getting answers from Anna when she said “Do not ever judge or assume anybody in your life. Some may always look like an agitator who breaks the Saturnian carousal, and some others might be seen an advocate of peace making in the midst of turmoil. Who do you think you are? What about your parents or close friends?” Anna went on to tell me a little more about her grandma Abigale who was brought up by abusive father. Her dad used whatever’s around to beat his little daughter even for a small mistake she made. The day when she broke her dad’s favorite flower vase, she was yanked out of her room and beaten for half an hour with an iron cord. When she came home just 15 minutes after her curfew, she got slapped in the face by her dad. Grandma Abigale thought her father did everything in good faith for her. One day after school when Abigale was in 10th grade, she saw her father with another woman at a movie theater. Not once, twice, or….. even countable times in her memories. When she brought up the matter at a dinner table, her mother started to sob and told Abigale that she had known about it all along. Her mother left home for good the following day.

 


Anna asked me if her grandma Abigale had ever gotten a chance to judge her parents, who do I think she might say a good parent. The father who destructed the peace in a family by secretly deviating his track? Or the mother who kept painful silence until the secret was revealed and then abruptly left everybody behind? I wasn’t able to answer her question about who to judge or criticize. Anna’s mind-boggling stories had told me how complex and distorted our life could be, and the most dangerous thing to do in such an intricate web of mysteries of life is to define people in each of our individual perspectives. Her final story in the club was the most energy-draining and emotionally charged one of all. It began with a scene where a bunch of kids playing shadow tag in a school playground. As the sun was setting and it was getting dark, one kid watching the others in the corner of the play ground slowly trudging near the kids at play and said “I’m it. Chase my shadow now.” All the other kids started to chase after this boy, but nowhere was his shadow to be seen. The playground smelled like a rusty metal leaving bitter taste in their mouth. I hope Anna was not projecting her own childhood and her late grandma in her abstrusely twisted stories.

 

Expressions

    1.   flesh and blood: living being with human emotions or frailties, often in contrast to something abstract, spiritual, or mechanical

    2.   anomalous: deviating from what is standard, normal, or expected.

    3.   out of key: (something is) out of tune or not in harmony

    4.   ledge: a narrow horizontal surface projecting from a wall, cliff, or other surface

    5.   to shadow ban someone: to block (a user) from a social media site or online forum without their knowledge, typically by making their posts and comments no longer visible to other users.         

6. 6. sennachiea professional storyteller of family genealogy, history, and legend.

    7. witch doctor: (among tribal peoples) a magician credited with powers of healing, divination, and protection against the magic of others.

    8.   twitch: to tug or pull at with a quick, short movement; pluck

    9.   to comport oneself: to pull oneself together/ to behave oneself

    10.   agitator: a person who urges others to protest or rebel

    11. Saturnian: (Latin origin) peaceful, prosperous, or happy

    12. Carousal: a noisy or drunken feast or social gathering; revelry

    13.  to yank…: to pull or remove abruptly and vigorously

    14. in good faith: in an honest and proper way

    15. abstrusely: in a difficult way

 

 


*Picture source:

https://rogersmovienation.com/2019/08/09/movie-review-scary-stories-to-tell-in-the-dark/

BRAINTEASERS

Care for some silly but fun, brain-teasing riddles?   E.g., What gets shorter as it grows older?   => answer: a candle       1.  ...