The discovery of this blog gave me an enjoyable read, visit Aunt Beulah and prepare to be pleased with her writing. ajm
Words entice me into books, thrill me when well spoken, and bedevil me when I’m writing. They amuse me, enrich me, anger me, and sometimes fail me. I spend part of every day entangled with words, and I couldn’t be happier.
According to family lore, a weakness for words wanders in my genes, making me susceptible to the eight parts of speech, well positioned. My grandmother, Caroline Hall, responsible for my cheekbones and weakness for ginger cookies, also led me to words with her zeal for books and a lap perfect for reading Mother West Wind “Why” Stories to a toddler.
When she was eighty-five, she showed me a small box on a shelf above her sink that held 365 vocabulary cards. The word of the day was insouciance; she was to learn it and use it several times in conversation. She studied the card for a minute or so…
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