Word-Wednesday for July 6, 2022

Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of new words... the trill of frippary... and the apogee of offbeat... the human drama of semantic explication...here is the Wannaskan Almanac with Word-Wednesday, July 6, 2022, the twenty-seventh Wednesday of the year, the third Wednesday of summer, and the 187th day of the year, with 178 days remaining.


Wannaska Phenology Update for July 6, 2022
Blueberry Update

Looks promising! 

More good news: the ticks are usually gone

by the time the blueberries are ready to pick.

July 6 Fickle Pickle Wednesday Menu Special: Potato Dumpling


July 6 Nordhem Wednesday Lunch: Updated daily by 11:00am, usually.


Earth/Moon Almanac for July 6, 2022
Sunrise: 5:28am; Sunset: 9:29pm; 1 minutes, 18 seconds less daylight today
Moonrise: 1:15pm; Moonset: 12:54am, waxing crescent, 39% illuminated.


Temperature Almanac for July 6, 2022
                Average            Record              Today
High             76                     99                     80
Low              55                     40                     62


July 6 Celebrations from National Day Calendar

• National Fried Chicken Day
• National Hand Roll Day
• International Kissing Day

July 6 Word Riddle
What always runs but never walks,
often murmurs but never talks,
has a bed but never sleeps,
has a mouth but never eats?*


July 6 Word Pun
Chairman Joe found a recipe from Morocco for homemade dinner rolls, which called for fresh thyme. The thyme he had was not fresh, but he used it enyvays. As he bit happily swallowed the last bite of his freshly baked roll, he reminisced, “You know, I really like that old thyme Moroccan roll!”


July 6 Etymology Word of the Week
philanthropy
/fə-ˈlan(t)-thrə-pē/ n., goodwill to fellow members of the human race; an act or gift done or made for humanitarian purposes; an organization distributing or supported by funds set aside for humanitarian purposes, from c. 1600, from Late Latin philanthropia, from Greek philanthrōpia "kindliness, humanity, benevolence, love to mankind" (from gods, men, or things), from philanthrōpos (adj.) "loving mankind, useful to man," from phil- "loving" (see philo-) + anthrōpos "mankind" (see anthropo-). Originally in English in the Late Latin form; the modern spelling in English is attested from 1620s. See also:
Philanthrocapitalism: How the Rich Can Save the World, Michael Green, 2008;
Winners Take All: The Elite Charade of Changing the World, Anand Giridharadas, 2018;
Philanthropy: From Aristotle to Zuckerberg, Paul Vallely, 2020;
Private Virtues, Public Vices: Philanthropy and Democratic Equality, Emma Saunders-Hastings, 2022.


July 6 Notable Historic Events, Literary or Otherwise, from On This Day

• 1776 American Declaration of Independence announced on front page of PA Evening Gazette.
• 1785 US Congress unanimously resolves the name of US currency to the "dollar" and adopts decimal coinage.
• 1853 National Black convention meets in Rochester, New York, attended by former slave, Frederick Douglass.
• 1853 William Wells Brown publishes Clotel, the first novel by an African American.
• 1885 Louis Pasteur successfully give an anti-rabies vaccine to 9-year-old Joseph Meister, saving his life.
• 1886 Horlick's of Wisconsin offers first malted milk to public.
• 1933 Nertsery Rhymes, a short film starring Ted Healy and His Stooges premieres, one of the first film appearances of The Three Stooges.
• 1942 Anne Frank's family goes into hiding in After House, Amsterdam.
• 1957 Harry S. Truman Library forms in Independence, Missouri.

July 6 Author/Artist/Character Birthdays, from On This Day

• 1773 Wenzel Thomas Matiegka, Czech composer.
• 1837 Władysław Żeleński, Polish organist and composer.
• 1859 Verner von Heidenstam, Swedish poet and novelist.
• 1878 Eino Leino, Finnish poet.
• 1887 Marc Chagall [Moise Shagal], modernist painter and stained glass artist.
• 1906 Elisabeth Lutyens, English composer.
• 1907 Frida Kahlo, Mexican painter.
• 1916 Unica Zürn, German writer and artist.
• 1919 Oswaldo Guayasamín, Ecuadorian painter and sculptor.
• 1925 Bill Haley, American rock vocalist.
• 1931 Emily Nasrallah, Lebanese writer and women's rights activist.
• 1935 Tenzin Gyatso, 14th Dalai Lama.
• 1948 Wadih Sa'adeh, Lebanese-Australian poet.
• 1952 Hilary Mantel, English novelist, author of Wolf Hall.
• 1955 William Wall, Irish writer, author of This is the Country.

Words-I-Looked-Up-This-Week Writer's Challenge
Make a single sentence (or poem or pram) from the following words:

• agathokakological:  /ˌæ-ɡəθ-ə-ˌkæk-əˈlɑdʒ-ə-k(ə)l/ adj., composed of both good and evil.
• butterwort: /ˈbə-dər-ˌwôrt/ n., a carnivorous bog plant ,native to both Eurasia and North America, that has violet flowers borne above a rosette of yellowish-green greasy leaves that trap and digest small insects.
• coenobite: /ˈsi-nəʊ-ˌbaɪt/ n., a member of a religious order following a communal rule of life.
• fustian: /ˈfəs-CHən/ n., thick, durable twilled cloth with a short nap, usually dyed in dark colors; pompous or pretentious speech or writing.
• haibun: /hai-BOON/ Japanese, 俳文, literally, haikai writings, n., a prosimetric literary form originating in Japan, combining prose and haiku. The range of haibun is broad and frequently includes autobiography, diary, essay, prose poem, short story and travel journal.
• leptosomatic: /LEP-tuh-soh-MAT-ik/ adj., having a slender, thin, or frail body.
• recusant: /rə-ˈkyo͞o-z(ə)nt/ n., a person who refuses to submit to an authority or to comply with a regulation.
• sundew: /ˈsən-d(y)o͞o/ n., a small carnivorous plant of boggy places, with rosettes of leaves that bear sticky glandular hairs that trap insects, which are then digested.
• veronica: /və-ˈrän-ə-kə/ n., a herbaceous plant of north temperate regions, typically with upright stems bearing narrow pointed leaves and spikes of blue or purple flowers; a cloth supposedly impressed with an image of Jesus’ face.
• wafture: /WAHF-tyr/ n., a waving hand gesture used to gain another’s attention or as a farewell sign.

Summer Haibun
Aimee Nezhukumatathil

To everything, there is a season of parrots. Instead of feathers, we searched the sky for meteors on our last night.  Salamanders use the stars to find their way home. Who knew they could see that far, fix the tiny beads of their eyes on distant arrangements of lights so as to return to wet and wild nests? Our heads tilt up and up and we are careful to never look at each other. You were born on a day of peaches splitting from so much rain and the slick smell of fresh tar and asphalt pushed over a cracked parking lot. You were strong enough—even as a baby—to clutch a fistful of thistle and the sun himself was proud to light up your teeth when they first swelled and pushed up from your gums. And this is how I will always remember you when we are covered up again: by the pale mica flecks on your shoulders. Some thrown there from your own smile. Some from my own teeth. There are not enough jam jars to can this summer sky at night. I want to spread those little meteors on a hunk of still-warm bread this winter. Any trace left on the knife will make a kitchen sink like that evening air

the cool night before
star showers: so sticky so
warm so full of light


July 6, 2022 Word-Wednesday Feature
Sven Svifties
Just over a year ago, Word-Wednesday explored the form of word-play known as the Tom Swifty, where fictional author names humorously modify a book’s title, e.g., Race to the Outhouse by Willy Maquit, illustrated by Betty Wonte. Authors can use adverbs to create puns out of character statements, otherwise known as Sven Svifties. Here are some of our favorites:

“I’ve lost a lot of veight,” Sven expounded.

“I’ll have to send another telegraph,” Ula said remorsefully.

“I must make the fire hotter!” Sven bellowed.

“Let’s play a C, E, and G,” said Monique’s band, in accord.

“My steering vheel von’t turn!” said Festus Marvinson straightforwardly.

“You call this a musical?” asked Erin less miserably.

“I can’t believe I ate that whole pineapple!” Dan Fulton said dolefully.

“I dropped the toothpaste,” Marvin Davidson said, crestfallen.

“Dat’s da last time I pet a volf,” said Guerrier offhandedly.

Da Rams really don’t have much for homerun hitter dis year,” Duane Osell said ruthlessly.

“I shouldn’t have slept on the railroad tracks,” said Bravanovisch, beside himself.

“I can’t get down from the mountain!” Ula alleged.

“I keep banging my head on things,” Sven said bashfully.

“I keep shocking myself,” Heide said, revolted.

“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.


From A Year with Rilke, July 6 Entry
Between Hammers Pounding, from Ninth Duino Elegy

Between hammers pounding,
the heart exists, like the tongue
between the teeth—which still,
however, does the praising.



Be better than yesterday,
learn a new word today,
try to stay out of trouble - at least until tomorrow,
and write when you have the time.



*a river.