Schwa'ts happening on Wednesday?

I had my tutoring session this morning, and that went well. We are working on improving her accent and emphasizing the schwa sound. Remember the schwa sound? If you said, "Uh," that's pretty much correct. It is the most common sound in the English language. And it is not represented by any one letter. That's why they created that phonetic symbol to use in dictionaries. Weird. Of course, English spelling in general is only somewhat connected to the way words are spelled. Don't even get me started on English place names. Like Worcester is pronounced Wooster? Right!

You might think the schwa would be an easy sound to make, but then Spanish-speakers can't understand why we can't trill the double-r's in ferrocarril.

After our session on schwa-ing  -- the guy on the video, teaching English to Russians, always verbs the noun: "We schwa the last syllable." --, I helped her enter an address in her GPS. She has an appointment in Chicago tomorrow morning to renew her immigration papers. We spent time on the American pronunciation of Chicago, too. 

Then I helped her find the telephone number of a local lawyer to see if she and her husband can get legal assistance as they work through the INS again. When they did this ten years ago, they went to a lawyer in Madison. He took two thousand dollars as a retainer, then married and moved out of state. Send a prayer winging heavenward for her, if you do that sort of thing. If not, send positive vibes or just hopeful wishes into the universe. She is not overly concerned, but INS does not really stand for Immigration and Naturalization Service. It stands for It's Never Simple.

The corrected versions of Wicca have been accepted and are now available. Easy, peasy. I am starting to get feedback on Benjamin. Don't hold your breath on that one! Wacky in WhoVille may be moving up the pipeline.

I am cooking a modified version of Frito Pie for dinner. After Tom heads out for a meeting, I will get out the robot and mop our floors. The snow of the last few days means tracks across the parquet. 

(Parkay! Butter!) 

Sorry! That's the way my brain works in the middle of the afternoon some days.

Tuesday tasks

While my volunteer readers are working their way through the novel, provisionally called Benjamin's Tale: A Life in Six Books, I got down to a few other tasks this morning after Helen headed back to Minnesota to escape the snow we expect this afternoon. 

I made a bank deposit, paid bills and submitted some corrections to Wicca in WhoVille. Despite the diligent efforts of the copy editors at Pileated Press, Titivillus changed Ellen Prime's name to Helen on a few pages and taunted readers by saying that Leif had a "confused look on his faith" instead of on his face. Those devilish changes will now be corrected in future print and Kindle versions. Those of you who have the original versions will want to hang onto them. They will be valuable in the future as proof of demonic activity.

I also looked at my notes for Wacky in WhoVille. With Benjamin this close to completion, I don't want to get involved writing another book. I need to keep the Benjamin project's momentum going. I do, however, want to keep the Wacky idea in my mind so that it can percolate and continue to grow. I am pleased to see how much of the story arc is already laid out. If only writing the full text were so simple!

My throat feels a little scratchy, which is not a good sign. I am going to go take some cold medicine in the hope that this may nip anything in the bud. I have tutoring tomorrow and don't want to cancel again, having done that last week.

So medicine and a nap while snow falls outside! One or both of the cats will come cuddle and keep me warm, I'll bet. Sweet!

St. Blaise

Today, February 3, is the feast of St. Blaise (or Blase) in the Catholic and Orthodox Churches.

According to the story, 

"Blaise, who had studied philosophy in his youth, was a doctor in Sebaste in Armenia, the city of his birth, who exercised his art with miraculous ability, good-will, and piety. When the bishop of the city died, he was chosen to succeed him, with the acclamation of all the people. His holiness was manifest through many miracles: from all around, people came to him to find cures for their spirit and their body; even wild animals came in herds to receive his blessing. In 316, Agricola, the governor of Cappadocia and of Lesser Armenia, having arrived in Sebastia at the order of the emperor Licinius to kill the Christians, arrested the bishop. As he was being led to jail, a mother set her only son, choking to death of a fish-bone, at his feet, and the child was cured straight away. Regardless, the governor, unable to make Blaise renounce his faith, beat him with a stick, ripped his flesh with iron combs, and beheaded him."

The main reason anyone remembers him today is the story about the fish-bone. Saint Blaise is invoked for protection against injuries and illnesses of the throat.

Two candles that were blessed on February 2 for the Feast of the Presentation of the Child Jesus in the Temple, are held in a crossed position by a priest over the heads of the faithful or the people are touched on the throat with them. At the same time the following blessing is given: "May Almighty God at the intercession of St. Blaise, Bishop and Martyr, preserve you from infections of the throat and from all other afflictions". Then the priest makes the sign of the cross over the faithful.

Before I was Catholic, one of my roommates dragged me to Mass on the feast of St. Blaise to get my throat blessed. We were both inclined to have colds and flu, and he was convinced Blaise would help. I do not recall if we were any better that winter or not. I will testify that I have never choked on a fish-bone.

The other personal anecdote about St. Blaise has to do with an encounter I witnessed between a Carmelite seminarian and another seminarian.

Carmelite: Hi, I'm Brother Bruno.

Seminarian: I'm Brother Blaise.

Carmelite: Blaze! Were you named for a horse?

Tick-tock Tuesday

Today is the birthday of a good friend. When he responded to my card, he said he is hitting the big 5-0 and wonders how he got there so fast. When we met he was 38, and it is hard to believe those twelve years have gone by. I sitll think of him as being in his late 30's.

At any rate, I told him that I recently received my Medicare card, which will be effective in May. How did that ever happen? How did my little brother get to be in his 60's?

When I turned 50, my mother told me I had passed her age-wise. Maybe I will start using that line with friends and family as they reach more mature years.