In an unfortunate episode earlier this evening, the first performance of Herr Wagner’s opera, The Flying Dutchman, about a spectral sea vessel, was abandoned at the last minute.
The cause was the stage instructions, which although spoken with the utmost clarity by Herr Wagner as ‘Ghost ship’, must have been misheard for some reason.
Uncle E. is a parfumier.
He has a trained nose, that does whatever he tells it.
"Shall you and I go to the front of the ship and watch the moonlight on the water?" said Tom forwardly
When I was young, our Uncle Ebenezer went on and on about roofing, such as Roman pantiles, thatch, slates and shingles, etc. But it all went over my head.
“Tempt me with a Chinese dumpling and I’ll do anything”, said Tim wantonly.
Sometimes in summer, perhaps under a bedside lamp, your attention might have been captured by a tiny flying insect, drifting mazily in the light. This was probably a fairyfly. These little insects are a millimetre or less long, and one species at just 0.15 millimetre is the smallest known flying insect. It's probably impossible for an insect to be any smaller and still fit in the means of metabolism, flight and reproduction. There is an irreducible minimum size needed to achieve all these things.
But perhaps it might be possible to make an artificial drone that was smaller. I'm not sure. Drones don't need to reproduce, currently anyway, so a saving there. But then to be useful a drone must send back some information, so that might tip things back the other way.
Swing low, sweet carry-out.
In the early 19th century plant biologists were often deadly rivals. Frequently an affair of honour was settled, especially where flowers were concerned, by pistils at dawn.
“That's a plain”, said Tom flatly.
“So you've noticed there's a drought, said Tom dryly.
There’s a storm muttering
on the far side of
Beyond
All my plants are dying
Please water them
Thunderstorm
Shepherd’s tight.
In our town Aunt Ethel was a fortune teller for dogs. Every year, at the annual fete, she set up her tent. Dogs of all sizes were walked in, to have their fortunes told from their footprints, a bit like palmistry with people.
All went smoothly for years and years, until one day the owner of a Chihuahua sued and won. Seems Ethel hadn't read the small print carefully enough.
Q. What herb makes jokes at the last minute?
A. Jesting thyme.
Tom Swifty is now a star, in Chris Maslanka’s puzzles in the Saturday Guardian. Well done Tom, good man you are!
Here's today’s (20 July 2019) Tom Swifty puzzle.
“That's a herb”, said Tom — (6).
Here’s one I came up with
“I’m sorry I planted that herb, it’s completely taken over a Parisian street”, said Tom — (8).
I just hate it when people say I can’t take criticism.
Q. What would you call a hybrid between a Wolverine and a Tasmanian Devil?
A. A cross breed.
Q. Why did the chicken turn over the flashcard?
Red roses
Your thorns are so sharp.
Are you feasting on my blood?
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