Books and Macchia

I read a lot. I suppose that is an understatement. Why? Well when we moved to Ireland, we had to clean out boxes of books. Most of my books were never thrown out, traded in, recycled, or anything of the sort.
Well we found hundreds of books. Hundreds.

Between the time I learned to read and the time I was twelve, I had read a few thousand books.

And where did they all go, you ask? To a very good cause. Namely a boy in the local high-school. They were collecting books and every book you brought in gave you extra credit.
He was failing.
He probably ended up with an A.

Today's word of the day is macchia.

macchia
noun

1. A shrub-land biota in Mediterranean countries, typically consisting of densely-growing evergreen shrubs.

I had never heard of it.

Teachers

I considered blogging about not blogging the last two days, but blogging about not blogging hardly counts as blogging, right?

I happen to like most teachers I have had. That is because they like me, and give me good marks, and would let me get away with murder *cough*. I don't like teachers that don't like me however. Last week, my art teacher said that the subject matter I choose to draw (a light switch) was too plain; in others words, the composition sucked (she says draw what's in front of you, puts me facing a wall, and then blames me).
But this week, every time I finish a drawing, she says 'wow,' 'that's really good,' 'excellent job,' 'brilliant,' or something to that effect. So I like her.
My history teacher on the other hand...

Today's word is

fa·er·ie

1. A tiny, mischievous, imaginary being; a fairy.

I know everyone knows that word. I love the way it is spelled faerie instead of fairy.

It's so - medieval.

T is for Tuesday and T is For....

T is for torpid, which I looked up especially as I had nothing else, because I was lazy.

torpid

Adjective

sluggish or dull

I admit I was torpid regarding today's post, but at least it got posted.


And yes, I do realise I have contradicted my "long meaningful posts over short" declaration.

However, what good is long when short and sweet do the job?

M for Monday, M for Materteral

Today's word of the day is materteral.

materteral- of or resembling an aunt, pertaining to or in the manner of an aunt.

Some background on materteral (from here).

Both "materteral" and "materterine" are derived from Latin matertera, "maternal aunt" (compare the derivation of "avuncular" from Latin avunculus "maternal uncle").
Paternal aunts are not etymologically neglected; however, in Latin, your father's sister was called "amita" which, after changing [m] to [n] and losing a couple of vowels along the way, has ended up as English "aunt."

A visit to the family house in Wicklow never fails to include many materteral cheek-pinching.

S for Sunday, S for Sesquipedalian

I think a word of the day would be cool, and could give me incentive to blog more often (anything that works...). I find it funny that "blog" is apparently not a word. While it isn't realllly a word, I think for a program for posting on a BLOG, blog should be a word!

Anyway, Sunday's word is sesquipedalian.

sesquipedalian

(sess'-kwi-ped-ay'-lee-un) adj. 1: having many syllables 2: given to or characterized by the use of long words.

It's ironic that a really long word word would be given to describe a really long word with many syllables, or the use of those words.

The word sesquipedalian is very sesquipedalian said my sesquipedalian friend.

Background on DD- This Says it All

DD has had many lapses in sanity.
Today, as we sat down to eat pancakes, he reached for the teapot, and was ready to pour it onto his pancakes. Then he realised it wasn't actually syrup.
He then informed me that not only had he attempted to put bleach instead of soap in the wash again, he had also attempted to put in milk!
Reminds me of the time he opened a tin of cat food and put it on the cutting board, only to remember that he wanted to chop an ONION.

The Most Human of Actions

No, not betrayal, though I am sure that ranks highly.

The most human of actions, to me, is the yawn. Such a simple action, so common, and contagious. When I see someone yawn, it is like I become them for a moment, and know exactly, precisely, how they are feeling. It is like that yawn has forged a connection between me and them, and it is very deep.
When I see the meanest of teachers, of men, of anyone, yawn, they become different. So hard to describe, but it is like they are innocent, small, childlike.
Even when someone of authority, say, the Pope, yawns, it is so human, that it astounds me.
I tend to place figures of authority on pillars, not pedestals, just pillars, because they are higher than everyone, not just me, not anyone in particular, society as a whole.
But when they yawn in the presence of others, one is hit with the shocking realisation that they are human too.
We are all the same race.
Human.


Sometimes that can be forgotten, overlooked. Remember it.