Tag Archives: world cup soccer

Adette Price Undercover Witch Chapter 29: Tarn the Shopkeeper?

 

 

Bodies pushed and jostled against each other. Adette allowed herself to be lead through the crowd. Lana talked on and on about several things: the people in town, who would give the best price, and who to stay away from entirely. Adette tried to take it all in as best she could, but the whole idea of being lead around the village square by a girl who wanted nothing more than to be friends was making her feel a bit strange.

In school, she’d had friends, but they’d long since graduated and moved on to better things. More than once, Lana would look her way only to realize that Adette was only half paying attention. Something about the day was putting her into a strange sort of state that she couldn’t quite shake.

“Addy!” Lana stopped them both short. Her arm slithered free of Adette’s. Both hands were placed firmly on her hips, and the look she had on her face said that Adette had definitely done something wrong.

“I’m sorry Lana. This is all just so much to take in.” Lana’s angry face softened slightly.

“I keep forgetting how new you are. Alright, maybe we should take a break.”

“Miss Adette,” a gruff voice interjected. Lana turned and the surprise on her face was plain.

“Mr. Zinner, what a nice surprise.” Adette said with a smile. She reached out and shook the older man’s hand. He in turn did the same.

“I’ve something I owe you, miss.” One gnarled hand took hold of one of Adette’s smaller ones. He turned it over so that her hand was palm up and placed one silver coin into the center.

“I thought you might like it.”

“I’ve not felt so good in ages.” Ms. Zinner flexed his hands and watched them with wonder.

“I’d be more than happy to make another batch,” Adette said. “For a small fee of course.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll bring it round tomorrow. I’ll need to make a fresh batch. Would you like this one to be bigger than last time?”

“I would like that very much.” Mr. Zinner smiled the first genuine smile Adette had seen.

“Then I will certainly see you tomorrow.” Mr. Zinner tipped his black bowler hat and disappeared back into the crowd.

“What on earth did you do to Mr. Zinner?” Lana’s mouth and eyes were wide with shock. Adette shrugged and took Lana’s arm once again.

“I made him some tea is all. I think it might have helped his joints a bit.” Lana shook her head. She nearly tripped over the skirt of another woman before she’d stop staring at Adette.

“That must have been some tea. Mr. Zinner is the town grouch. I’ve never seen him so much as talk to anyone and especially never someone from out of town.”

“Sometimes I really wonder how much of a friend you are Lana. You keep accusing me of being some strange deviant all on account of my out of town status.” Lana slapped Adette lightly on the shoulder.

“You know I don’t mean it like that. I just mean that he’s notoriously mean to everyone. He especially doesn’t seem to like women, but you he’ll talk to. He even seemed to like you a little.” Adette shrugged. She wasn’t about to give up anything else. She had a secret to keep after all.

“What stalls should I be buying from?” Lana stared for a moment longer before taking the bait. Adette nearly sighed with relief but managed to hold the urge off.

“Well, what do you want to buy first?” Lana continued to walk. She was slowly sweeping from side to side. She nodded occasionally at the shop keepers she knew.

“I’d like to buy some herb and vegetable seeds. I need a few more things for my greenhouse. I’d also like some fresh vegetables for cooking, but the herbs should probably come first.” Lana nodded and began to steer them toward a stall whose owner she knew.

“This is the man to see about herbs and seeds. He’s even known to get some unusual ones in from time to time.” Adette nodded and stepped toward the stall. There was a good assortment of things, but nothing that she wasn’t familiar with. In the end, Adette felt a bit disappointed. She’d be able to get all of the things she needed, but there wouldn’t be much hope for the rarer essentials. She supposed she’d make do with what she’d found so far.

“I’ll take these and these,” she said as she set the items she’d chosen onto the counter.

“That will be one silver miss.” Adette’s head shot up. She knew that voice. The face that stared back was smirking knowingly. Adette extended her hand across the makeshift counter and dropped the one silver piece into the waiting hand of Tarn.

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World Cup Fever ok yeah…I’m starting to get it

Fifa-World-cup-2014-brazil

Ok. I like sports. Admittedly, I’ve learned to like them more since getting married five years ago. Thank you husband.

I’ll also admit that I am not usually a futbol (soccer for those of us yanks) fan, but I have to say that I’m starting to get it. Yes the players are primadonnas. Yes, they come across as being whiny to someone who, say, loves hockey. Yes, it’s slow paced, but that’s where my complaints end.

I need to digress a little. I’ve been prepared for a future like perhaps even love of soccer by hockey. Really? Mrs. Emeigh, what the heck is wrong with you? How can hockey, something which most of you really know little about, even compare to the world wide juggernaut of soccer?

For a few reasons. I’m not a big knowledge on sports, but I can still manage to notice these few main points. Like hockey, there are a few similarities that draw me in every point counts, conditioning means everything, and every scoring attempt counts in a big way.

Scoring attempts. This is where most Americans get hung up. Who cares if there aren’t points reflecting the efforts of the athletes, you say? I want to see points in the powers of sixes and sevens. I want to see points into the hundreds. Why?

If there is one thing that I have learned from hockey it’s this. The effort of a player matched against the skill of a good goalie is greater than any number of dunks.

No guaranteed point can build the same kind of expectation and tension that four uncompleted scoring attempts can. Adrenaline has no choice but to course through your veins when being faced with the difference one goal can make. It has no choice but to continue when you watch, what could be an amazing goal, start to run its way across the field.

You watch with bated breath as the goalie deflects or misses something otherwoldly.

Soccer is a slow burn. It’s starts out slow. Then, as you watch, it builds. Unless you have the attention span of a two year old you can’t help but notice. Where many people only see a bunch of people running across a pitch, I see opportunities waiting to be had. Like baseball it’s a slow tactical mission that crescendos at its end.

One kick, one well placed foot in the right direction is all it takes to make or break a play or even the game, but that’s what I like to see. It doesn’t come from a pedigreed star who’s paycheck would make you cry but from a chance, luck, being in the right place at the right time. Everyone loves an underdog and any player on the team can have that underdog moment in a final minute or in an unlikely situation. It’s those situations that steal the breath from your lungs or keep it there waiting for whatever is about to come.

That I love. I love the unpredictability. I love the fact that every second, every play, every mistake counts and that it can make or break…everything. I can’t speak for all of my fellow Americans, but I can at least hope that some day they will learn to love that slow burn. There is no guarantee that points will happen only effort. The effort is what counts not the points.