There wasn’t a battery strong enough to jolt Martha from her chair and out into her workshop.
Over the years, age had taken a big bite from her youth and left her as drooped as wilted lettuce in a garden.
Each year Critics would award ribbons to Martha's garden that somehow remained lovely year after year. Martha smirked as the fellow gardeners gave her the evil eye.
They have
no idea about the evil eye. I could mow them over, like that.
This week's words come from wisewebwoman.blogspot.com who manages to give bloggers hard words to manage. Please hop on over and see if she can stump you.
