So, I took the liberty of looking it up in several dictionaries, and this is what I found:
- Alive, capable of living, developing, or reproducing.
- Capable of working, functioning or developing adequately.
- Able to exist, perform as intended, or succeed.
After digging a little more I was able to discover its etymology. It originated from Latin’s word vita. In France, during the 1820’s, “vita” evolved into “vie” which meant life, and the suffix “able” was originally used in reference to newborn infants, in 1848. If we were to compute this etymology into a mathematical equation it would look something like this:
[Latin/Vita] + [French/Vie=Life(1820’s)] + [Able=Newborn(1848)] = Viable
Gosh, I love words!
New words are provided daily by WordPress (WP), with the intent of getting the writer’s, imaginary juices flowing.
Sometimes they inspire me, but mostly…not so much.
Today, I had the bright idea of taking today’s word, and combining it with a prompt from my book, The Writer’s Block. The book is a 3×3 inch block filled with 786 ideas. (That’s a whopping 2 years and 66 days of writing material!)
My challenge is to take one prompt from the book, but only in the order it is given. The very first prompt is: Describe your first brush with danger. So, if I were to compute today’s challenge into a mathematical equation it would look something like this:
[Viable] + [Describe your first brush with danger] = [Today’s Post]
So without further ado…today’s post:
My first brush with danger happened early in my life. I was only a newborn, so this story is based on my mother’s word, and it goes something like this…
I was a preemie, born a month early, and weighed barely five pounds. In spite of this, baby Lisa, was a viable newborn, ready to take on the world.
My mom took me home to live on Wood Street, in Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina.
Wood street, at that time was a dead, end dirt road. The locals liked to call it “washboard alley” because of all its ruts. Also, I’ve heard it say, that the area was called “frog level,” because every evening the frogs would congregate in the nearby creek to serenade the street dwellers.
One day, my mom laid her sleepy baby (me) in the crib, and covered her with a warm blanket. Since I seemed content enough, she left me with my father, and walked past my aunt’s house to visit my grandmother, who lived two houses down and on the left.
After a while, my dad looked in at me, and saw that I was not breathing and that I had turned an ashen color. Frightened, he picked me up, opened the front door, and hollered, “Bessie, come quick…there’s something wrong with this baby!” My mom and aunt came running, grabbed me, got in the car, and headed to the hospital. My aunt drove, and my mom, who just happened to be a nurse, performed CPR on me the entire ride to the hospital.
At the hospital I was given oxygen. The doctor said I almost died of SIDS, (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) and then scolded my mom for laying me on my back instead of my tummy.
My mom vowed she had laid me in the crib on my tummy, and I believe her. At that time (1960’s), it was advised to lay infants on their stomach. Today it’s just the opposite.
That’s the story of my first brush with danger, and since it nearly killed me; I dub this post Viable Danger.
I’ve no clue what WP’s daily prompt will be, however, the prompt from The Writer’s Block is: Diet
(Hope you’ll join me for tomorrows combination!)
PS – Thank you mom, dad, and aunt Emma for saving this girl’s life!