The smartest things I've ever done…

is a very short list.

This morning as I was doing a major kitchen cleaning, just like every Sunday morning, I was washing the tray that the cats dishes sit in and I thought “This is the smartest thing I’ve ever done” and then I thought “Hmm – this may be the only ‘smartest thing’ I’ve ever done”

Trying hard to think of other ‘smart’ decisions I’ve made, and while the list is long, they don’t qualify as ‘smartest’ because they are things that were done too late; after the damage had been done.

I was told that for the first 2+ years of my life my vocabulary consisted of four words – Ma, Pa, John and No. I was told that the first sentence I ever uttered was “No, I don’t want to. Make John do it” and then I walked out and slammed the door. Go me!

Unfortunately the ability to say no didn’t stick with me. I re-learned that skill sometime in my late 30’s, after 3 years of therapy. But, there is always a but, I did not fully embrace it. I will probably never get back what appears to be my innate tendency to stand-up for myself.

What is that old saying “ve get too soon oldt undt too late schmart” – well, I’ve gotten old, but still not smart.

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miscellany, because that’s all I’ve got.

I finally finished another Anita Brookner book and that woman had a definite preference for the word prelapsarian. I’ll leave you to click the link and discover it’s meaning. It certainly is not a word, or even concept, that one encounters on a regular basis. I have in the past derided ebooks but my situation being what it is, that is pretty much the only kind of book I read, the upside of which is that I can quickly look up a new word. I like that.

Penultimate is another word I like. I’m not sure when I learned it’s meaning but I’m always delighted when I see it. It came up in the tv listings this morning – the penultimate episode of “This is Us” will be on tonight; we will watch it tomorrow.

I’ve written about words for as long as I have written. Somewhere in my stash of juvenilia I have an essay I wrote about them – or really not an essay per se but just something I wrote in what we would now call a journal. Back in those days I don’t think we called it anything in particular – diary maybe?

My fascination with words is not so much in their meanings but in their sounds and how they feel in your mouth when you say them. I remember as kid loving words like plethora and superfluous.  There is another word which I was crazy about as a kid and at the moment it escapes my memory, but I really loved the way it felt in my mouth.

The other thing I love about words is their connotation.

I’ve noticed I am not commenting on many blogs lately and that’s because I don’t relate. Nor do I wish to be contentious. I read, I just don’t relate. My reactions are “how nice for you” or, well, or nothing. Not that I don’t enjoy reading what people write, but it has nothing to do with me (It’s not all about you, Grace – and you’re right, it’s not. Only my life is all about me, yours, not so much, or even at all.)

There are blogs I read that give me pause for thought but blog comments are not the place for deep philosophical discussion (tawkin’ about you David.) And then there are blogs where my reaction is inappropriate – oh, wait I said that already – or nosy. I always want details; I have questions.

I just took a break from writing to take a bunch of pics of Frankie and a little video – and that’s another thing – I see fabulous photos, and sometimes I post fabulous photos, but what can you say besides “Fabulous photo” – and do people really want, or need, to hear that 15 times? I do like to know that at least people dropped by even if they have nothing to say and that’s what stat counters are for, I guess.

Oh, and the other thing – I’m into slightly cynical sayings this week. I’ll be posting them on my facebook page. You should go and check them out – they amuse me.

I guess I’ll sign off and play with the Frankie photos…

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