Letter of the Law

My latest submission to my professor:

I grew up in Oklahoma; however, my lack of a detectable “Oklahoma” accent is often noted when it is discovered that I am, indeed, an Okie. Quite honestly, I am unable to discern much of an accent or distinct pronunciation in my speech. Although, I can say that my parents having both completed multi-undergraduate degrees and having been avid readers has to have influenced my pronunciation, vocabulary, and syntax. I simply cannot recall “ain’t” ever being used by a member of my family, immediate or extended.

Once, when I was quite small, but old enough to detect the slight pretension that pervaded the atmosphere of my home, I announced that I wanted to change my name to Candy. My mother nearly fainted and once recovered, delivered a short lecture intended to correct my shady desire. We used big words all the time, even when a smaller, more easily understood choice was available. In second grade I nearly became the laughing stock of my classmates by using the word procrastinate (I am sure I was telling little Bobby not to procrastinate in retrieving the crayons).

So, while we weren’t a particularly religious family, we did regularly attend the temple of Grammatica*. Noses held high in approaching the altar, we offered our sacrifices in the form of fingering the heretics deemed unworthy of attendance. As my patent leather Mary Jane’s pinched my toes, I couldn’t help but hear the laughter down the street at Rhetorica’s place.

Grammatica signifies those who adhere to the letter of the grammatical law.

Rhetorica conversely represents those who are more loose in their acceptance of one's grammar as being correct or incorrect.

Do Nothing Days

All I wanted to do this morning was sleep late and lounge around in my pajamas; drink my coffee (erm, that's tea, shhh); sit in my living room; stare out at the mountains curtained by the smokey grey clouds; listen to the younger girls giggle while playing dolls.

Alas, piano lessons and grocery shopping and other necessary errands pull me out of my pajamas and into my clothes; off my couch and into my van. The dolls are put away and piano books are collected. So, I will save it for another day.

Sigh.