My Mice Like to Party All the Time--Well, that strange smell of death or sauerkraut seems to be almost gone. I wonder if something bigger ate the smaller dead thing. I know, not a nice thought, but an honest rural thought. Though the idea that I have a forest of animals in my cellar doesn't please me. I know there are a couple mice (and one newt), but that is all I know. Who knows what is going on down there, our house is 75 years old this year (well, *that* part of it, the living room and bedrooms were a remodel), maybe it was a celebration gone bad and one of the mice passed out in the furnace. It happens.
PO-ET-RY:My recent attempts at poems leave me wondering what I was thinking when I began them. The have interesting lines, but go nowhere. They are similar to the well-dressed people at a party who when you try to converse with them, have nothing interesting to say. Pretty to look at, annoying to take. Still, I'm writing, which wasn't happening due to my critical paper.
Worst Words--I was thinking about how there are certain words that make me cringe (similar to how I have to change the station if I hear "Mr. Bo Jangles" or "Send in the Clowns." ) Here are my least favorite words in no particular order:
meme, filibuster, my bad, irregardless (not a word), midwifery (pronounced "mid-wiffery"), ointment, panties (esp. when said by a man), potty (same thing), spatula, schedule (pronounced with an English accent), whew.
(though I don't always cringe at the UK version of "schedule," it depends who is saying it and how many times.)
Favorite Words--Of course, if I'm revealing my worst words, I should even it out with some of my favorites (again in no particular order)--
discombobulated, lollygagging, topography, lumpia, dishrag, whiplash, mascara, numbskull, Zanzibar, penumbra, edgy, hipsway, fishhook, undulate.
