I’m still a word nerd, and I love playing with words. I read this today and just thought it was a fun look at how our language works.
Choose not only your words, but your word orders carefully. 🙂
Look at how the adverb “only” can change the meaning of a sentence depending upon where it’s placed:
Only I poked him in his eye with my stick.
I only poked him in his eye with my stick.
I poked only him in his eye with my stick.
I poked him only in his eye with my stick.
I poked him in his only eye with my stick.
I poked him in his eye only with my stick.
I poked him in his eye with my only stick.
I poked him in his eye with my stick only.
So use your “only” choices carefully, pilgrims.
— from Rob Kyff…”The Word Guy”
I don’t know who wrote this, but I love it! This is a variation on my life.
IF YOU GIVE A MOM A MUFFIN
If you give a mom a muffin, she’ll want a cup of coffee or
in my case a diet coke to go with it. She’ll pour herself some, or
take a drink. Her three year-old will spill the coffee or diet coke.
She’ll wipe it up. Wiping the floor, she will find dirty socks.
She’ll remember she has to do laundry. When she puts the laundry in
the washer, she’ll trip over the boots and bump into the freezer.
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan supper. She
will get out a pound of hamburger. She will look for her cookbook.
(101 Things to make with a pound of hamburger.) The cookbook is
sitting under a pile of mail. She will see the phone bill, which is
due tomorrow. She will look for her checkbook. The checkbook is in
her purse that is being dumped out by her two-year old. She’ll smell
something funny. She’ll change the two-year old. While she is
changing the two year old the phone will ring. Her five year old
will answer and hang up. She’ll remember that she wants to phone a
friend to come for coffee. Thinking of coffee or in my case diet coke
will remind her that was going to have a cup. She will pour herself
some. And chances are, if she has a cup of coffee, her kids will have
eaten the muffin that went with it.
It’s late. My family lies sleeping (or in various stages close to sleeping). Even the dog is snoring. And from each bedroom, I can hear the sounds of bedtime stories.
I guess you never outgrow those.
My son who plans to be a rich and famous novelist has an Artemis Fowl audio book playing on a karaoke machine borrowed from little sister. Little sister has drifted off to Eragon playing on an MP3 file on her laptop. And my husband’s laptop will soon go to sleep itself, having read him (and I guess, itself) Harry Potter 6 yet again.
Technology is wonderful – it’s brought the bedtime stories back into fashion in our house.
If I lie down now, I can still hear the good part.
Spinning class kills me.
Years ago, I went to spinning classes regularly with a friend. Somehow sweating and laughing together made the whole thing easier. Either that, or I was just younger and in better condition. This week I tried a spinning class again and wanted to tuck my tail between my legs and sneak out to gasp for air somewhere in private. I had to play mind games with myself to get through it.
10 minutes into the hour-long class, my thighs burned and I was panting. Not a good sign. I know that clock was set at super-slow mode because it just wasn’t moving! I told myself if I could just make it to 30 minutes, then I’d leave. Hey, a half hour workout isn’t bad. At about 25 minutes, one of the other super-fit looking fellows called out, “This is a half hour class, right?” He was laughing, which means he had more air than me at the time. The whole class laughed and chuckled at what a silly idea that was and continued spinning. Well, clearly I couldn’t leave at half an hour now! Not with any shred of dignity at least.
Just then, the instructor started a new round of stand-up-on-your-bike-now-sit-downs (there may be a better term for that). So I told myself I’d stay for this series, then leave quietly. That series lasted until 40 minutes in. So I told myself I’d leave at 45 minutes. Nice round figure. At 45 minutes, I said, “You know, I’m just 5 or 10 minutes from cool down. I can last that long…”
Minute by minute I tricked myself into exercising a little longer. I made it the whole hour! Woo hoo! Yay me!
The problem is, my brain is starting to catch on. How do I trick myself into going back?
I spent New Year’s Eve cleaning my house. It’s probably symbolic, but I just couldn’t stand to start the new year surrounded by sticky floors, smelly hampers, and rotting vegetables. By the time we counted down the last few seconds, we were surrounded by yelling friends and children wearing silly hats and blowing loud horns (who’s idea were those??). And my house was clean. I slept well this morning.
2009. Bring it on.