Let’s Coin a Word

Posted on June 29, 2012 by janets123

     I dislike, detest, loathe and abhor cleaning the oven. You could even say I hate it. But I love a clean oven. So why are there no appropriate synonyms for that?

     The quick and easy synonym finder supplied by my word processor can suggest only “worship” and “adore.” Come on, people! What’s wrong with the English language?

     We have “like” to fall back on but if that wasn’t bland and ubiquitous enough, Facebook has ruined it forever. It doesn’t have enough punch anyway. I sometimes revert to “overly fond of” but that’s not going to work for a freshly-cleaned porcelain-coated steel box.

     We need to coin a new word to convey something stronger than mere “like” but not so special as “love,” a word we ought to reserve for feelings directed toward and inspired by people. Or God. Or at least animate objects, like the parakeet who sings with joy when we come home.

     I love chocolate. She loves my new hairdo. Everybody loves Raymond. He loves football. They love their new school uniforms.

     “I love you, honey.”

     “You do? More than chocolate?”

     I’ve been trying to solve this on my own. I’ve come up with “blove” and “slike” so far, from brainstorming. Either one would work really well in literature, I think. In conversation, though, they are easily lost–mistaken for slurred speech.

     Any creative writers out there who agree we need to coin a new word? Or, has this problem been solved by some wonderful wordsmith but the word hasn’t gotten out yet? Are there any words left?

     Perhaps we could recycle something from the previous century that has fallen into obscurity, much like “gay” and “twitter.”

     I’d blove to hear your thoughts on this matter! I’m sure you’ll come up with ideas readers will slike.

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God Hears

Posted on June 18, 2012 by janets123

This time of year, birdsong greets me every time I walk out my door. Of late, it is most notably a Mockingbird’s varied song.

This particular bird’s repertoire is impossible to not notice. He seems to know every songbird’s warble and can even mimic the cry of a hawk. He switches songs about every third or fourth stanza, as if trying to fit them all in. Plus he sings from a nearby radio tower, about fifteen feet above the trees.

It may be an imagined thing, but I think this guy has more enthusiasm than any bird I’ve ever heard. He’s loud; he’s persistent; and he’s on the job daylight to dusk.

I’ve wondered about the circumstance that may have him so bubbly. Is his mate nesting and he doesn’t know what to do with himself? Did the eggs just hatch and he’s enthusiastically proclaiming his fatherhood? Did something happen to his partner and he’s desperately looking for another this late in the game?

After a while I gave up speculation to simply admire him. I determined maybe I should emulate him.

Mr. Mockingbird does what he was designed to do. He has perfected his art and does it with his whole heart. He doesn’t seem to care what others think of him, safe in his perch above the world and confident he can defend it. This common little gray and white barred-wing fowl of the air gives glory to his Creator. Even in the rain, he does it as if the fate of the world hinges on it. He sings as if God is listening.

 

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Keep on Going and Going

Posted on June 8, 2012 by janets123

“Please, Mom? Pul-ease?” The teenage girl pled with her mother on the grocery aisle. I was looking for olive oil and wondering why there were now fifty-‘leven brands in three sizes, remembering the days when olive oil meant extra virgin Pompeian in its distinctive bottle.

We kept crossing paths as we shopped. The kid continued to make a case for something involving the use of a car. “What if I promise we’ll fill the tank up?”

I couldn’t hear the mother’s responses but apparently they were negative. I figured she was reminding her daughter of other times when things hadn’t gone so well.

“He’s a good driver, Mom. It’s just for a couple of hours. Mo-om!”

When a child wants something passionately, she can be a real Energizer Bunny about it.

In front of the lunchmeat, they seemed to be working things out. Mom had stopped the cart and faced her whiney offspring with a monologue. They were so intent, I was able to sneak a peek at their faces. The woman looked serious but calm; the wide-eyed girl looked hopeful; I supposed she had won her case.

Her persistence paid off, I thought. If only children could be so persistent about important things, like getting their homework done or staying with any assigned task long enough to finish it or saying, “No,” to their peers about self-destructive behavior.

Our kids learn from the example we set, though. By capitulating when they wheedle, we not only reward their nagging, we show them it’s okay to cave. After all, mom did.

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These Blessed Feet

Posted on May 31, 2012 by janets123

My workout at the gym is always accompanied by music with a lively rhythm. I think they have it set for 140 beats per minute, to help achieve an optimum heart rate.

The other day they were playing old disco music and I found my feet trying to dance. I was seated with my legs under a padded bar, but the muscles in my feet were contracting in time with the music.

I thought about a couple of people who have had their toes removed as a result of diabetic neuropathy. They both said it is amazing how much we rely on our toes for balance. Just one little toe missing can cause a person to stumble “over nothing.” They said they had to learn to walk all over again.

There is a scripture admonishing members of the church to think of themselves as equally important to the function of the entire church body. It says the hand is no more important than the eye and the eye is no more valuable than the foot, or words to that effect. I suspect a person who has lost a toe would say “Amen” to that.

The prophet Isaiah calls the feet “beautiful, on mountains” when they carry good news, proclaim peace and the victory of righteousness.

Thinking about how invaluable my feet are, realizing how many muscles I have in my toes, I’ve decided to give them more tender, loving care than before. Shoes that fit exceptionally well, cotton socks, magnesium soaks, lavender massages–these are all well-deserved by these blessed feet.

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Make Me Smile; Make Me Laugh!

Posted on May 28, 2012 by janets123

My husband and I are relatively newlywed and we often “get caught” acting like kids. We rough-house, play, dance, tickle one another and laugh at any excuse. Sometimes I ask why he’s got this big smile on his face…and we both break out in giggles.

Passers-by and onlookers get to benefit from our good humor and we often see strangers smiling our way.

People, generally speaking, enjoy being around folks who are laughing, happy and having a good time. We take pleasure in watching children play. We like to laugh.

A couple of years ago, my singles group at church had a game night as a break from our weekly bible study. Someone brought this crazy electronic game, sort of like Charades on speed. The machine ticked off the time, loudly, and the ticking got faster during the last seconds. One poor fellow did so poorly at giving clues under pressure, he begged to pass his turn. His awkward bumbling and unhelpful clues caused uproarious laughter. He was the worst player but the most fun and we all pleaded with him to continue in the game.

An Oxford scholar published an extensive study on laughter last fall, concluding it is the physical exertion of laughing “ha-ha-ha” that triggers a release of endorphins. Those brain chemicals make us feel good and help us to resist pain.

(I would say, it is much more pleasant to laugh spontaneously than to sit around saying, “Ha-ha-ha” but it might be worth trying sometime, just to see if it makes me feel good or helps a headache go away.)

Another study in 2008 revealed that the mere anticipation of laughter caused participants to have higher levels of HGH (anti-aging, immune-enhancing, stress-reducing hormone) as well as the pleasure-producing endorphins. I’d say that’s fairly good confirmation that smiling is thoroughly beneficial, even if it doesn’t produce a belly laugh.

So, go ahead–make me smile; make me laugh. I want to live forever and if I can’t, I wouldn’t mind to die laughing.

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To have slunk away?

Posted on May 22, 2012 by janets123

Because I am often second-guessing myself, and because experience has taught me to proofread at least one more time after I know the writing is perfect, I reread the blog about the fox today. I kept getting stuck at the word “slunk.” It’s not a word I use often. I don’t think I’ve read it often, either.

Wondering if I’d used it properly, because it sounds funny, I thought about the alternatives: The fox had slinked; The fox slunk; The fox had slunk. Oh, mercy, maybe he had simply crawled away!

I thought about my reference books but I don’t have anything with verb conjugations. (It would be a thick book.) Then I remembered the Internet. Sure enough, “verb conjugation” came up with 9,680,000 results and this wonderful page, which is now in my “Favorites” folder, along with a thesaurus, encyclopedia and several dictionary sites: http://conjugation.com/verb/slink.

I feel better now.

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Fox Out Front

Posted on May 16, 2012 by janets123

Today we had a fox visiting the shrubs in our front yard. Come on, little guy! This is a big city and foxes don’t do this. Okay, so we do have a 350-acre wilderness at our back door. Last summer we had a gray fox drinking from the bird bath.

We spotted this bold fellow out the office window, marking his territory. Anxious for a closer look, a longer look and maybe a lucky shot with the camera, we tried to sneak out the front door.

The only reason we got this picture at all…well, it wasn’t because we were sneaky; it was because this little guy was as unfamiliar with and curious about people as we are about foxes.

He stood frozen for drawn-out seconds, staring dumfounded as I pointed the camera, zoomed in and clicked the button. I didn’t get a second chance as he slunk back into the bushes.

I found myself wishing there were some kids around to share this moment with. Then I remembered the Internet. Enjoy, kids!

Can anyone tell me if this is a gray fox or a red? He has both colors but he’s pretty small for a gray. Any creative thoughts about why he was out in the front yard in the middle of the day?

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Toe Tapping

Posted on May 14, 2012 by janets123

 This morning the little orchestra at our church was performing a new version of “Washed in the Blood.” It started out with only an electric guitar playing the first verse and I noticed the flutists were tapping their toes, though they had their instruments down.

As my eyes swept along the rows of winds and strings, I was amazed at the variations of keeping time. About half were forthright; a few used their heels; one was nodding and a couple of them were involving both feet. One lady was actually mouthing, “One, two, three, four; one, two…” Every member of the orchestra was tapping something.

Of course it is perfectly logical for musicians to keep time in anticipation of their entrance into the performance, but this incident made me think of other instances when we anticipate, often with trepidation, what’s going to happen next in our lives.

Life is not like a well-planned musical score. It bumps and bounces all over the place. The things we expect, don’t happen. Instead, stuff pops in from nowhere and knocks us off our feet. The best we can do is to simply keep the beat.

In this way, I suppose life is like an orchestra. A singular few sour notes can be overlooked as long as the rhythm is right.

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Uncurried Favor

Posted on May 10, 2012 by janets123

At a recent writer’s conference, I pitched a picture book to an agent and he agreed to look at my work. This guy lives in New York City and has wonderful connections in the children’s book industry, so this is a very big deal.

How big a deal I have the potential to land didn’t hit me until I came home and Googled the agency. The thought then occurred to me, Why did he agree to consider me as a client?

I know I can write well and my manuscript proves it, but this guy has never seen anything I’ve penned. He listened to my spoken words, studied my face and said, “Yes.”

In years past, I’ve treated a publisher’s representative to lunch in order to be invited to send a manuscript. I’ve pitched my stories to the editors of friends. I’ve attended workshops and pitched to the instructors. This is different. This time I didn’t work for, or curry, favor.

I choose to attribute this to answered prayer for favor with men, as was said in Acts, of Jesus’ disciples, “Praising God, and having favour with all the people.”

My niece told me she wished she had my confidence. I laughed about her statement because I think I have every insecurity known to mankind. Yet, I probably came across to the agent as being self-confident.

Here’s my analysis: I’ve been preparing this soil for many years; I’ve planted seed by writing all sorts of things; I’ve cultivated critique partners; I’ve watered with tears of frustration; it is time for harvest.

The interview and its positive outcome may look like uncurried favor. It is certainly sprinkled with divine intervention. But it would never have happened had I not written the words, invested in the conference, made the appointment with an agent and bubbled with enthusiasm. I’m going to remember this next time I think someone is luckier than me.

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A Labor of Love

Posted on April 27, 2012 by janets123

“Housework sucks!” wrote a young friend of my granddaughter, on her Facebook status.  

This prompted a plethora of thoughts about how dreadfully we must have failed this generation, especially in the area of appreciating the opportunity to work.

How many times I have been served by a kid who didn’t want to be there, worked only for money and couldn’t wait for his hours to be over!

Housework doesn’t pay–at least not with immediate monetary reward–yet it must be done. Like other mundane tasks, the reward is in knowing it is a job well done.

One of my stepdaughters explained to me how she detested housework and put it off until it was a huge chore. “If I wash dishes, we just dirty them up again,” she complained. “We mess the bed up every day. Laundry is never caught up for more than a few hours.” She wanted to know why my attitude was different.

At a loss for words because I’d never thought about this before, I finally managed, “It makes me feel good.” That didn’t communicate with her so I tried again.

“I look at the clean house, the finished product, and it makes me feel good. When things are messy or dirty or undone, I don’t feel good. I take a few seconds to admire the folded laundry or the clean floor. Sometimes that’s all we get–that few seconds!”

I think this principle is applicable to the work spent in writing. Every writer wants the affirmation of publication. Yet, if I wrote solely for the sake of dollars earned, I’d never write poetry because it doesn’t pay well, and I’d be a very frustrated author because most of what I write isn’t publishable, never mind payable. It’s a labor of love.

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