And here is the Wannaskan Almanac for Word-Wednesday, April 28, 2021, the 17th Wednesday of the year, the sixth Wednesday of spring, and the 118th day of the year, with 247 days remaining.
Wannaska Nature Update for April 28, 2021
Some Mourning doves are year-round residents in Wannaska; others migrate annually from the wintering in Texas. They’ve just started singing their morning songs. Doves primarily forage on the ground for the seeds of annual plants. To get the protein the young need, both parents shed the lining of a part of their digestive tract called the crop and regurgitate this to feed the nestlings. This whitish substance is referred to as crop milk. The Mourning dove is the only North American bird that is classified as both songbird and gamebird.
Nordhem Lunch: Closed
Earth/Moon Almanac for April 28, 2021
Sunrise: 6:08am; Sunset: 8:34pm; 3 minutes, 12 seconds more daylight today
Moonrise: 11:05pm; Moonset: 7:09am, waning gibbous, 97% illuminated.
Temperature Almanac for April 28, 2021
Average Record Today
High 58 88 69
Low 34 5 35
April 28 Celebrations from National Day Calendar
- National Blueberry Pie Day
- National BraveHearts Day
- National Great Poetry Reading Day
- National Superhero Day
- Workers’ Memorial Day
April 28 Word Riddle
Why did the Perfectionist walk into the bar?*
April 28 Pun
Like Saul, I want to be on the road to Demaskus.
April 28 The Roseau Times-Region Headline:
Mimes Kidnap Baudette Man: Commit Many Unspeakable Acts
April 28 Etymology Word of the Week
Wellerism: /ˈwe-lə-ˌri-zəm/ n., a Tom Swifty [see below] form of word play using an expression of comparison comprising a usually well-known quotation followed by a facetious sequel, such as, “Every one to his own taste,” said Festus Marvinson as he kissed the cow.
Sam Weller, a good-natured servant in Charles Dickens’ The Pickwick Papers, was fond of following well-known sayings or phrases with humorous or punning conclusions. For example, Sam quips, “What the devil do you want with me, as the man said, w[h]en he see the ghost?” Neither Charles Dickens (nor Sam Weller nor Monty Python) invented this type of word play, but Weller’s tendency to use such witticisms lead people to start calling them “Wellerisms” three years after the book was published in 1836.
April 28 Notable Historic Events, Literary or Otherwise, from On This Day
- 1789 Fletcher Christian leads a mutiny on HMS Bounty against its captain William Bligh in the South Pacific.
- 1940 Glenn Miller records Pennsylvania 6-5000.
- 1947 Thor Heyerdahl and the crew of the Kon-Tiki sail from Peru to Polynesia.
- 1989 Iran protests sale of Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie.
- 2004 Shrek the sheep from Tarras, Central Otago, New Zealand, is finally shorn live on TV after 6 years avoidance; the fleece weighed 60 pounds.
April 28 Author/Artist/Character Birthdays, from On This Day
- 1630 Charles Cotton, English poet and writer.
- 1686 Michael Brokoff, Czech sculptor.
- 1758 James Monroe, fifth US President.
- 1902 Johan Borgen, Norwegian author.
- 1906 Kurt Gödel, Austrian-American mathematician.
- 1926 [Nelle] Harper Lee.
- 1932 Marek Kopelent, Czech composer.
- 1948 Terry Pratchett.
- 1963 Obiageli Ezekwesili, Nigerian Accountant and prolific email author.
April 28, 2021 Song of Myself
Verse 26 of 52
Now I will do nothing but listen,
To accrue what I hear into this song, to let sounds contribute toward it.
I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat, gossip of flames, clack of sticks cooking my meals,
I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice,
I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or following,
Sounds of the city and sounds out of the city, sounds of the day and night,
Talkative young ones to those that like them, the loud laugh of work-people at their meals,
The angry base of disjointed friendship, the faint tones of the sick,
The judge with hands tight to the desk, his pallid lips pronouncing a death-sentence,
The heave’e’yo of stevedores unlading ships by the wharves, the refrain of the anchor-lifters,
The ring of alarm-bells, the cry of fire, the whirr of swift-streaking engines and hose-carts with premonitory tinkles and color’d lights,
The steam whistle, the solid roll of the train of approaching cars,
The slow march play’d at the head of the association marching two and two,
(They go to guard some corpse, the flag-tops are draped with black muslin.)
I hear the violoncello, (’tis the young man’s heart’s complaint,)
I hear the key’d cornet, it glides quickly in through my ears,
It shakes mad-sweet pangs through my belly and breast.
I hear the chorus, it is a grand opera,
Ah this indeed is music—this suits me.
A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me,
The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.
I hear the train’d soprano (what work with hers is this?)
The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies,
It wrenches such ardors from me I did not know I possess’d them,
It sails me, I dab with bare feet, they are lick’d by the indolent waves,
I am cut by bitter and angry hail, I lose my breath,
Steep’d amid honey’d morphine, my windpipe throttled in fakes of death,
At length let up again to feel the puzzle of puzzles,
And that we call Being.
Words-I-Looked-Up-This-Week Writer's Challenge
Make a single sentence (or poem) from the following words:
- asperity: /əˈsperədē/ n., harshness of tone or manner.
- contrapuntal: /ˌkäntrəˈpən(t)l/ adj., of or in counterpoint (of a piece of music) with two or more independent melodic lines.
- gauffer: /ˈgofər / n., an ornamental plaiting used for frills and borders, as on women’s caps or 19th century book pages; v.t., to flute (a frill, ruffle, etc.), as with a heated iron.
- ictus: /ˈiktəs/ n., a rhythmical or metrical stress.
- labeorphilist: /lay-bee-OHR-fill-ist/ n., one who loves or collects beer bottles or their labels.
- minimus: /min-uh-muhs/ n., the smallest finger or toe.
- odalisque: /ˈōdlˌisk/ n., a female slave or concubine in a harem, especially one in the seraglio of the Sultan of Turkey.
- preantepenultimate: /PREE-an-tee-pih-NUHL-tuh-mit/ adj., fourth from the last.
- syrinx: /ˈsir-iŋ(k)s/ n., a panpipe.
- xertz: /zurtz/ v., to drink with large, greedy gulps; to guzzle, as from extreme thirst; to chug enthusiastically.
April 28, 2021 Word-Wednesday Feature
Tom Swifty Word-Play Day
Noun and type of wordplay in which reported speech is followed by a description that creates a pun of some sort between the two. Tom Swift was the hero of a series of boys’ adventure books first published in 1910.
Author Victor Appleton rarely used the word “said” without adding adverbs, a style that someone turned into a word game in which punsters add adverbs that suit what Tom is saying. Classic examples of Tom Swiftys [or Swifties] include:
“Sesame,” said Sven openly.
“I only use one herb when I cook,” said Ula sagely.
“I swallowed some of the glass from that broken window,” Thoralf said painfully.
Enjoyed by most writers with a sense of humor, such writers are particularly fond of Tom Swifty book titles, because choosing the proper title can be challenging for any author. Some of the Word-Wednesday staff’s favorite Tom Swifty book titles include:
Fiction
Race to the Outhouse by Willy Maquit, illustrated by Betty Wonte
The Gravest of Errors by Paul Barer
Hot Tubber Trouble by Iva Windbottom
Gone with the Wind by Rufus Bloneoff
Without Warning by Oliver Suddun
Yoko’s Robe by Kim O. Knoe
One Last Doorway by Ivana Tinkle
Self Help
The Art of Trick Shooting by Rick O’Shea
Breaking and Entering by Jimmy D’Laque
Furniture Selection for the Ample Woman by Wilma Butfit
How to Get the Day Off by Colin Sique
Toilet Training by I.P. Knightly
Preparing for College Entry Exams by Mark Detest
Effective Communications by Clara Fye
Looking Younger by Faye Slift
Investigative Reporting
World’s Worst Cruises by Helen Back
Bizarre Hauntings by Hugo First
Washington Politics by Mary Annette String
Teenage Truancy by Marcus Abcent
Circumcisions Gone Wrong by M.T. Phorsquin
Los Vegas Divorces by Marion Haste
Inspirational
Prayers and Repentance by Neil Downe
The Trip to Bethlehem by Don Keys
Deathbed Confessions by Justin Thyme
Songs for the Church Choir by Ollie Louia
Adult
Peeping Tom by Saywer Scanties
Erotic Adventures by Oliver Kloezoff
Call Me Butch by Ida Mann
How I Freed Willy by Frieda Wale
Full Moon Rising by Seymour Buns
From A Year with Rilke, April 28 Entry
Being Ephemeral, from Sonnets to Orpheus II, 27
Does Time, as it passes, really destroy?
It may rip the fortress from its rock;
but can this heart, that belongs to God,
be torn from Him by circumstances?
Are we as fearfully fragile
as Fate would have us believe?
Can we ever be severed
from childhood’s deep promise?
Ah, the knowledge of impermanence
that haunts our days
is their very fragrance.
We in our striving think we should last forever,
but could we be used by the Divine
if we were not ephemeral?
Be better than yesterday,
use more adverbs today,
try to stay out of trouble - at least until tomorrow,
and write when you have the time.
*It wasn’t set high enough.
Yes, I heard the mourning doves on one of our walks this a.m.
ReplyDeleteShrek the Sheep? Not Shaun? Or maybe Shorn? In any case, that sheep would give the Shelty something to bleat about.
Thanks for noting "The Great Poetry Reading Day." I've been reading/writing my own. Does that make my compositions "great"?
Love WW's . . . "puzzle of puzzles / and that we call Being." Buddhists call this, "The Great Matters of Life and Death." Either way, nothing lasts. Too bad our hubris doesn't allow us to choose what remains.
Answers to Rilke: no, no, no.
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