I'm digging in...

...to my new book this evening. My UPS man delivered it just moments ago and I'm so anxious to read that I've set aside everything else to dip into the first chapter. It's The Power of Babel: A Natural History of Language by John McWhorter (link on my sidebar). I didn't need any coaxing to read a book by this author--he's delightful--so when John emailed me from work this week and asked if I'd heard about it, it took me approximately 30 seconds to find it on amazon and hit "place order." I can't yet give it a personal recommendation, but from the reviews I can tell I'll be doing that soon. In the meantime, Kirkus Reviews says

A learned, lively tour through the lush garden of human languages....An
entertaining, instructive Henry Higgins of a volume: it'll transform readers
into enraptured Eliza Doolittles.

Repeat after me, "The raaaain in Spaaaain falls maaaaainly on the plaaaaain."

I could have dahnced all night, but I think I'll be reading instead :-)

UPDATE: 85 pages in, I'm hooked! Aside from the evolutionary vantage point, the book is fascinating, fun, and right up my alley....if you love language, you'll love this book!

Late winter

All right, so December and January didn't quite qualify as a real winter down here in the South Country. But February hasn't disappointed. After a nebulous start including a couple of days with the central air going, winter has nodded our way and given us a taste of what most of you get for three months. This is our second STRAIGHT day of having a fire going all day long, and we're burning firewood that we bought three years ago. It's a time for candles, kerosene lamps, fluffy slippers, hot cocoa and midday coffee, and the general coziness that comes with a day that doesn't get out of the 30's.

Our family is still in the adjustment phase of living without the Slaughters. Some of the adjustments are pleasant, some continue to bring me to tears almost every day. I miss the children. I miss seeing their daddy playing with them. Oh, how I miss Kristen's company. I miss the dog. Oh wait, we still have Ellie! And she is NOT enjoying the freezing temperatures! Anyway, she is no substitute for the elves and their parents, so I'm looking at the calendar and working out a time to hop a plane and go visit. I'd have gone soon in any case, because little Erin is growing up without her Granny and I miss her and her parents even though they've not lived in our house recently :-) Look for me to announce some trip dates soon.

So, I'm back to enjoying the fire.....

Today...

...is my father's birthday. He's been gone from this life for three years now, long enough that I'm beginning to have trouble "hearing" his voice, but I'll never forget his laughter, his twinkling blue eyes, or the joy it gave him when MY birthday fell on Father's Day. I was born on his first Father's Day, so it was a special pleasure on those occasions every few years when the dates meshed.

Born in 1930 at the beginning of the Depression, Dad was very much a product of his times and his heritage. He enlisted in the US Navy at 15 by means of an altered birth certificate (which I still have), partly as a way of supporting his family...he used one of his first paychecks to buy his mother a set of dimestore china, the first full set of dishes she ever owned. By the time Dad wore a sailor's uniform, his father was disabled, living on a tiny railroad pension and struggling to support his wife and sons. But those sons took their responsibilities to their parents as a sacred privilege, and they gave back at every opportunity. Dad used his innate intelligence and Depression-era work ethic to build a successful career in the Air Force (he gave up the Navy when I came along, having no more taste for the long months at sea) and gave my brothers and me a life rich with travel and books and good food. Most important, he instilled in us a love for the Father and for His people, the church. All these gifts enrich me still, and I give thanks for Dad's life and witness. His earthly life stretched just into this millennium; his influence will live far beyond.

Happy birthday, Dad--we'll share a Sunday again soon.