As I’ve mentioned in past blog posts (seen here, here, here and here), I’m drawn to certain words. The attraction is often a word’s meaning or spelling, but sometimes I just like the way a word rolls off my tongue.
These are more of my favorites:
Rigmarole
Paralian
Demitasse
Finagle
Antiquarian
Librarian
Attic
Maelstrom
Sabaism
Beguile
Bejeweled
Bedeviled
Dumfungled
Obituary
Gossamer
Halcyon
Volcanologist
Donair
Laminate
Amok
Elixir
Gobblefunk
Latibulate
Schmuck
What are some of your favorites?
“To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life.” –William Somerset Maugham
Last week, I went to the orthodontist for yet another exam and braces-tightening. I’ve been doing this every eight to 10 weeks for more than two years now and I’m still not used to it.
During this particular appointment, the ortho lamented my jaw’s lack of progress (me too, lady). She then jammed a small metal file in between my teeth and scraped back and forth, which is akin to hearing nails scratch a chalkboard — only in your mouth and with the addition of agony.
Just before I fled the chair, the ortho took a moment to compliment my behavior, saying she was impressed by how I had handled my more recent appointments.
As I mentioned at the time, my first dental visits since the fainting spell that broke my face involved undergoing brutal procedures that left me trembling and crying. Every subsequent visit has been slightly easier since I know what to expect, and more terrible, since I know what to expect. For example, I always keep yogurt and mashed potatoes in the house now because after each visit, my teeth and gums hurt so much that I’m unable able to chew food for a few days.
There’s also the dread factor. The orthodontist’s office sends me a text and an email in advance of each appointment to remind me that I have more misery to endure. The moment those confirmation notices appear on my electronic devices, apprehension sinks into my bones. Which means I’m anxious before I even arrive and stressed during the experience itself. The post-work pain only reinforces that.
So, when she praised my newfound ability to hide my feelings, I responded by pointing out all of the above. What I should’ve said was “thank you.” (Apparently, my ability to be graceful and diplomatic goes right out the window when I’m suffering teeth torture.)
Needless to say, the ortho is skilled at her job. I have no doubt she means well. And I truly appreciate all of the hard work that she and the dentist and the periodontist and their techs have done to put my mouth back together. But when this whole rigamarole is over, I hope to never step foot in their offices ever again.
The Manchester, N.H., chapter of the Silent Book Club recently launched a campaign to save local library books called The Forgotten Books Project.
Apparently libraries will occasionally cull their collections, removing books that patrons haven’t checked out for a long time. With The Forgotten Books Project, our little book club hopes to rescue some of these soon-to-be lost tomes.
We contacted our local librarian and asked her for a list of the books that were the most likely to get the old heave-ho. Next, we began checking out the titles that interested us. I picked up my first batch this week (see image at right).
I plan to read each title, of course, since the topics genuinely interest me. But, I’ll also receive great satisfaction in knowing that I’m saving them. Which means, others will have the opportunity to read these books too.
Every time I look at this stack, I feel a bit like Oprah: You get to stay! And you get to stay!
Perhaps there are some forgotten books at your local library? Now is the perfect time to discover what they are and check ’em out.
