Monday, 7 September 2015

Solve the Riddle Tag ----- Again

I begin this post with a hasty assurance. No, you are not going mad, and yes I am doing another Riddle tag thingy. And it is thanks to my cousin Jessica that you get to see my riddle answering skills (or lack of them, depending on the riddle).


Again I couldn't be bothered to make my own so I just used a handy picture. :D

Okay, here is the list of rule yet again (why do these things always have rules?)...you may notice that I tampered with a few (not to mention getting rid of the few that I have already completed):


Answer the 5 riddles that are provided by the lovely person who tagged you. (Hey, this rule doesn't say that you have to not-answer the questions! I'm sure it did last time!)

Tag 5 or more bloggers. (tagging yourself is not allowed. It would be considered cheating as you probably already knew the answers to the riddles you chose.) 

Provide 5 different riddles in your post for the people you tagged.

Comment the link to your post on each blogger's blog.

After a week from when posting this tag, comment the answers to your riddles on your own post.


I'm not entirely sure whether I'm allowed to answer these straight or not...there's no rules against it... so maybe....Maybe I'll just mostly answer them. After all there's a big difference between mostly answered and all answered.

So here are Jessica's riddles for me and the mostly-answers I have given them:


Riddle no. 5
What herb cures all ailments?

By the Black Raven's crime, and by this Rhyme,
The answer would be..... Yeah, I do know the answer to this one.

If the riddle didn't specify that it was a herb and was just 'what cures (almost) all ailments/poisons?' then I might have answered a bezoar... (For those that don't know, a bezoar - the kind I'm talking about - comes from Harry Potter and "Is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons"--Severus Snape, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.)

Riddle no. 4
Eskimos of the Artic are excellent hunters. They can catch almost anything, but they have never caught a penguin. Why?

Yup, got that one fairly easily. :D All of these ones are really simple compared to this one...(Most things are more simple than that.) I just read this and just when, "Ummm what? Oh, yeah, I know...Now I feel kinda silly because I had to think about it..."
Just sayin', did anyone else realise that Arctic is spelt wrong? Or was it just me? I glanced at it and just thought, "Ooo look, the Artic, I wonder if Art people like living in the Artic."


Riddle no.3
A man that is not a man,
Throws a stone that is not a stone,
At an owl that is not an owl.
What is the scenario? 

I also guessed this one reasonably easily because when I was looking up riddles for my other riddle-tag-post I came across one quite similar.


Riddle no. 2
What does man love more than life,
Fear more than death,
Or mortal strife?
What do the poor have the rich require,
And all contented men desire?
What do misers spend and spend thrifts save,
And all men take with them to the grave?

This one really annoyed me for ages but I finally got it. For ages I was just like, "I've heard this before...I know the answer...but what is it!?" Technically the answer doesn't work completely anyway.


Riddle no. 1
My eyes do not see,
While I dig deep.
And in the eve when I rise,
I've no heart to beat.

Now...there is a reason I did these riddles backwards. I saved the best one for last. I do not know what answer Jessica had in mind when she asked me to answer this but I'm fairly certain it wasn't the one I'm going to give her. Clare said 'the moon' as her answer to this and also suggested potatoes but I went even further....
I will tell you the True Answer  to this riddle. It is not a simple answer either, it's quite long. 864 words in fact.

 (I suppose I should say I'm about to spoil the end of the story, but it's better if I do.)Now, before you read the answer, I'd just like to say that it's much more depressing if you imagine Posy as Tauriel and Tayto as Kili at that certain part of The Battle of Five Armies... You know.... This part. If you do that, the ending is much more....sad....
Proceed now to the answer:


There once was a potato miner. Now, don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a person who mined potatoes, it was a potato that mined gold. This certain potato loved shiny things. He could be carrying on a conversation with another potato but he’d always get distracted. This, naturally, led to him being without friends, as all the other potatoes were tired of his replies being:  “Oh yes, I’m feeling fi—Ooooo look! Something shiny!” or something along those lines.

So the potato – from now on we shall call him Tayto – went about his mining alone. Now because of this, the other potatoes, particularly the younger ones, began to tease him and call him names and then run away when he came close. So Tayto began to work only during the day (which is the opposite of all other potatoes) and be back home by evening. This way he could avoid the cruel stares and jeers of the other potatoes. 

Tayto worked hard at his diggings, always searching for some glint of gold. It became very dusty down below and he had to cover his many eyes so they wouldn’t get dirt in them. He found gold by touch and smell alone.

Working alone can be nice and peaceful, but even Tayto started to feel a little lonely. Every evening he’d go home later and later just to get a glimpse of the beautiful potato-girl, Posy, who lived across the tunnel from him. He’d meander slowly up the tunnel, hoping that she’d emerge before he reached his house. Sometimes she did, but other times, no matter how long he waited and how slow he walked, she didn’t come out of her house. When this happened Tayto would slump into his hole dejectedly.

Then one morning, just as Tayto left his home for the diggings, tremors shook the city. Potatoes peered out their windows and into the tunnels, wondering what was going on. Then they remembered.

Harvest day.

Word spread like wildfire. The Shovels were coming! The Shovels were coming! Despair filled every heart; all knew that no one would be spared.

The Southern part of Tater city fell first. Citizens were fleeing in terror but they were all scooped up by the dreaded blade in the end. Tayto, who’s house was in the East Corner, worked in his mine, unaware of the trouble above. 

The tremors continued throughout the day, the Southern edge was irreparably destroyed and all the inhabitants abducted. In the late afternoon Tayto, heading back home, was shocked to see citizens fleeing the East Corner. “What happened?” he shouted over the din. “What’s going on?” (Naturally he shouted this in Potatou – the language of potatoes – but I have translated it for the English speaking readers.)

No one answered him directly but from the terror-stricken screams of “The Shovels!”, “Run for your life!” and “HELP!!!!!” he managed to gather what was going on.

“Posy!” he roared, shoving through the crowd. He reached her door and yanked it open, dashing inside.

Posy was kneeling by her father weeping in terror.

“You’ve got to get out of here!” Tayto yelled.

Posy looked up, surprised, then her face hardened. “What are you doing in my house?” she asked furiously.

“You need to run,” Tayto insisted. 

“My father refuses to go, he says that he will accept his fate. I’ll not leave him,” Posy replied haughtily. 

“But the Shovels!”

“It’s my business whether I go or stay, so get out,” Posy said, shoving Tayto towards the door.

“Watch out!” Tayto yelled at her. She glanced up, a shovel was descending from the ceiling, knocking down clods of earth as it came. It prodded around in the dirt and then rose up once more.

“See,” Posy stated. “We’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Please,” Tayto pleaded her. “Run down to my diggings and maybe you’ll be safe.”

Posy turned up her nose. Secretly she had long admired Tayto’s enthusiasm and vim for mining and often lingered around in the evening, waiting until he came home so she could pass him on her way to the markets. He was an intriguing young potato if there ever was one and she had sported ideas and wishings for the future. But now? When they were all about to die anyway? “I will stay with my father,” she decided. “You go on to your diggings and try your luck.”

She didn’t notice the quick movement above her but Tayto did. “No!” he shouted and threw himself at Posy, knocking her out of the way.

Posy fell in the dust but managed to jump agilely to her feet once more. She gasped in horror, “No...No, please, no.”

Tayto lay on his back, his eyes meeting hers. The Shovel was buried in his chest, slicing his heart in two. Tayto struggled to say something but gave up and just smiled weakly.

Posy fell to her knees and sobbed. “No...please... Why does it have to be like this?”

The Shovel rose up through the roof and out into the evening air Above. “Hey dad!” a young boy exclaimed. “Look at this 'tato! I skewered it!”

Below, in the crumbling tunnels of Tater city, a young potato-girl wept.


See what I mean? Depressing isn't it? That is the True Answer. I must say, the irreverence of that boy is horrifying! He just doesn't realise that he broke two hearts in one blow.... I hope I don't have to explain how the answer fits the riddle, because talking about it too long might just be too sad. *Sniff sniff* 

So apparently I have to tag five other bloggers and give them five riddles to answer but I can't think of anyone to tag. I'll settle with reminding Sarah that I nominated/tagged her last time so she'd better get around to doing the post.....

I hope I answered these to your satisfaction Jessica. Thanks for nominating me!

Fare Thee Well!

4 comments:

  1. Yes I did notice arctic was spelled wrong, I think I fixed it in my post... though I did consider going on about artic.... And oh Tater's story is so sad it is funny!

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    Replies
    1. Ahem ...His name is Tayto, thank you very much. :D

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  2. I will never see potatoes the same way again :'(

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