Very little makes my heart smile and, likely, an English teacher’s heart sink, than the act of making a noun into a verb. It’s so simple and even more rewarding! You just add an -ing, -ifying, -ed or an -ize to the end of your favorite nouns.
Speaking of acronymizing, I also really like to pronounce acronyms as if they were words. DVD is duh-vuh-duh. SUV is naturally suhv. FYI is fyeeee. ATM ends up sounding like atom and GPS is ji-pus. Everyone loves to say LOL so I’m not all that unique in this, really.
Speaking is more fun this way.
Funny enough, although I am 100% in favor of verifying nouns, I am 150% against acronymizing acronyms (a.k.a. a macronym). For example, AIM for AOL Instant Messenger. Companies are notorious for this. I see it used all the time for equipment or project names and it makes my eye brows twitch.
Somewhat related is the phenomenon of the backronym which I did not even realize had a title until today.
I’ve always said that I am good at following rules. It then stands to reason that I often create rules just to be able to follow them. One of these rules pertains to my photographic inventory when on travel. I must take photographs of the elderly… and generally without them knowing.
I found this man in Rome. Perhaps he was waiting for someone.
These 3 were enjoying a view of town from the top of a hill in Thessaloniki, Greece while sharing quite a few laughs. I watched them for quite a while before I found a way to sneak a shot of them. Friendships like these make my heart smile.
Not far from where the 3 above were sitting, sat 3 men enjoying the view as well. Maybe they were with the 3 women. Or maybe they were tourists like us, but out on a boy’s trip!
Look at their darling hair pins! I would have taken them home if I could have thought of a way to get them through Customs.
This woman was walking home (presumably). What you cannot see in this photo is the sway in her skirt as her hips moved from side to side, steadied by the cane. It was magical.
Italy is full of old men who simultaneously remind me of my adorable grandfather and every character from every mob movie. These two looked like they were in trouble and I loved them for it. Although… enough gelato will make me love anyone for nearly any reason.
This man was visiting the cathedral in Assisi when we were. I gathered from his accent that perhaps he was German. His profile is fantastic!
This little man was one of my favorite parts of my Italy trip in 2005. He came right up to me at St Mary Major Church and started talking to me about love, luck, and the importance of recognizing one’s Blessings. His accent was very thick and he spoke extremely quickly. After he rushed through a goodbye, he walked away into a side chapel where I found him later and snapped this photo. Isn’t it funny how a complete stranger can be the most vivid thing you remember about an experience?
Speaking of the elderly, I have a post drafted about my Pop who passed away last month. Hopefully I will get the courage to finish it soon. It’s been hard to write something without tearing up. One day…
Agreed; this is probably a very weird thing to declare great when it is 76F outside. But, you, that’s how I roll.
Jay and I went to Iceland a month ago and there we encountered our very first glaciers! They are magnificent, have you heard?
This one here is called an outlet glacier. It looked to me like a river was rushing down a mountain and some sort of superhero (maybe like this one) froze the water at a most critical point in what was surely a truly epic action flic.
Later that very same day we ventured over to hike (yes you DID read that correctly) on a glacier. We got to wear crampons and hold ice picks! No real need for the ice picks except of course for bragging rights.
OK! OK! I can hear you asking for more reasons why I love glaciers. Fine!
Well, look how pretty they are. All that trapped air makes for quite a lovely color scheme.
Further more, hundreds of years of volcanic eruptions near this glacier piled on some beautiful black stripes. Stripes are so in this season. Well played, Mr Glacier!
All that on top of how great the science is behind how they work.
On the flight home, we passed over Greenland and you could not BELIEVE (or maybe you would if you’re not like me and actually payed attention in geography classes) how many glaciers cover that island!
Guess what’s next on the Perry travel itinerary?
I like glaciers.
All photos by me.
Many years ago, during one of our frequent Coffee Times, my dear friend Bob opened my eyes to the wonders of the rhododendron leaf. I was aware of this bit of flora but had never really stopped to appreciate it. In the summer it is a thick, waxy leafed plant with the large (generally) pink blossoms.
“Summa, summa, summatime.” Fresh Prince
As the seasons change and the temperature falls, the leaves begin to curl up.
By the time the highs are all lows, the leaves have curled into tiny cigars. They also fall, or pull in closer to the stem/branches.
“It’s sure been a cold, cold winter.” The Stones
And obviously that reminds me of cigar cookies!!! Which makes me want to make a grocery store run immediately.
“One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas, I don’t know. “Groucho Marx
But why do they do that? you’re asking. I thought you’d never ask! It’s called thermotropic leaf movement. Throughout the winter, rhododendron leaves will freeze nearly every night. They curl to reduce the rate at which the frozen leaves thaw. Slow thaw rates reduce the risk of tissue damage caused by the freeze-thaw cycle.
Most rhododendrons are found within forrested areas. In warmer seasons, the trees block out quite a bit of radiation. When those trees lose their leaves, more of the sun’s radiation gets through to the rhododendron and the leaves pull in, or fall, to sort of hide the leaf surface from the sun. How they do all this is still up for debate (i.e. discovering).
Pretty neat, huh?
One could argue that my love of the mustache was prompted by the recent fad. Or one could argue that my love of the ‘stache began with a fellow I dated with a handlebar mustache. But I would like to suggest my love of the mustache began at a much earlier age- say birth.
Most of the men in my formative years all sported a sophisticated spread of facial hair. For example:
My dad rocks a pretty impressive “cop stache” but in his hay day, it was a full on fu.
My grandfather rocks a pencil. When he came out of his anesthesia induced coma after open heart surgery, his first words were colorful and all expressed his anger towards the nurses for shaving his mustache to insert the breathing tube. Nevermind that tube was what kept him alive!
My husband wore a fairly impressive handlebar and I grew a well groomed barbershop for our wedding.
Yes indeed. I do love a mustache.
I like to stretch. It’s the first thing I do when I wake up, usually accompanied by a faint squeal.
And then again, nearly every 2 hours, I stand up at my desk and do a stretch similar to the one depicted below.
It’s the best. Here are some other ideas of stretches appropriate for the work place.