Wednesday, October 31, 2012

31 Days: Day 31 — In which I sink to new late-post lows.

Yes, I've procrastinated almost as long as I can and still call it today.


We made it! Thirty-one long days of learning to use better grammar. If I'm exhausted, I know you must be ready for a grammar vacation. And I don't blame you, so go ahead! End your sentences with prepositions! Dangle your participles! Use their as a singular pronoun! Just warn me so I can look the other way.

Before we finish up, let me just throw a couple more no-nos in the ring.

Reflect back. Never say this. When you RE-flect, you look back. So if you reflect back, you look back back. It's like saying ATM machine or PIN number. Don't.

Very unique. Do you know what unique means? It means one of a kind. How can something be very one of a kind? There are no degrees of uniqueness. Something is either unique or it is not.

I could care less. Really? How much less could you care? What you mean is I couldn't care less, as in, it's not possible for me to care any less than I do right now.

Close proximity. This is another reflect back. Proximity means closeness. Lose the close and just say proximity.

Data. The word data is actually the plural form of datum. One datum. Two data. It only sounds ridiculous to you because it is almost never used correctly. The data are proof.

Media. Media is also a plural word; the singular is medium. One medium, two media. When we speak of "the media," we're including TV, radio, newspapers, and others. There are many. The media are liberal.

One last nugget:

Ad nauseam. Do you see how that last word is spelled? N-A-U-S-E-A-M. I can't remember the last time I saw this word in print spelled correctly. It's not ad nauseum. It's ad nauseam.

And now the grammar queen is shutting down and heading to bed. Thank you for spending 31 days with me, listening to me rant about silly mistakes and give long, drawn-out explanations of stuff most people don't care about. My hope is that after 31 days of reading this, you've learned at least one thing you didn't know before or you are at least more confident in what you already knew. Grammar matters!

Be thankful ~


Tuesday, October 30, 2012

31 Days: Day 30 — Various and sundry items.

Right down to the wire, right? Yes, it's 8:08 pm on the 30th and I'm just sitting down to write. But I have a good excuse.

Today Leah and I went to see the infectious disease specialists at UVA Medical Center in Charlottesville. They were able to confirm that I have no infectious disease, viral or bacterial, which is good news. I laid out my case for the venlafaxine withdrawal syndrome that I think it is, and the doctor basically said it could be that, but he couldn't verify it. He cautioned me about using herbal remedies (I'm currently using an herbal 30-day cleanse) because they are unregulated and unproven, I thanked him for his input, and we left.

So basically, I'm on my own to get the garbage out of my system and get myself healthy. Tomorrow I go back to the gym. I am at once excited and scared to death. It's been five weeks and I'm feeling pretty weak. But at least I get to go.

Grammar.


I started to write a long and detailed post on proper comma usage, but then realized it would be easier to direct you to Grammar Girl, who has already written many great explanations of the different situations that require (or don't) commas. Please go visit her website and learn.

So I decided I would spend the last day (or two) going over a few random things that may or may not drive me nuts when I see them. Here they are, in no particular order.

1. Improper use of quotation marks. If you mean what you're saying, don't use quotation marks as anything other than an indication of a direct quote. Have you ever seen a sign wherein some word was surrounded by cute little quotes like this:

Bananas on "sale" xx/lb.

What that sign is saying is that it's not really a sale. When you use quotation marks where they're not called for, you're saying that the word is not really what you mean. If you still don't understand what I'm talking about, check out The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks. I go there when I need a good laugh.

2. Do not capitalize the word president unless it is followed by a last name (President Reagan) or preceded by Mr. in direct address (Mr. President). If you're just talking about the president, it's not capitalized.

3. I know most of you reading this already understand the importance of what I'm about to say, but for those one or two who don't, let me make this clear. IF YOU TYPE IN ALL CAPS, IT INDICATES YOU ARE SHOUTING AT ME. This is 2012. Every keyboard has a caps lock key. Find yours and make sure the little light is off.

4. Then means "at that time" or "next in order of time." Than is a word that is used to express comparative adjectives or adverbs (this is bigger than that; easier said than done).

I'll be back tomorrow with the month's wrap-up. And maybe a few more pet peeves.

Be thankful ~

Monday, October 29, 2012

31 Days: Day 29 — In which I remember I have a blog.

 
Well, hello! I seriously just remembered I have a commitment that lasts three more days. Sorry about that. With all the Sandy hype and school and store closings, I just plain forgot about it.

I have, however, been watching a lot of the coverage on the Weather Channel. I grew up in Point Pleasant Beach, New Jersey, which has been featured in a lot of the coverage today as the place that is rolling out the Sandy welcome mat, so I'm concerned about friends and family who still live there. The whole town is only a mile square, so no matter what part you live in, you're sure to be flooded to some extent. I'm pretty sure they're under a mandatory evacuation, but that doesn't keep people from wanting to ride it out.

So in all my Weather Channel watching, I've recorded a few things the weather people say. They are only surpassed in horrid English by sportscasters, especially NASCAR announcers.

Anyway, here are a few of the statements we've heard today:

-->
 . . . currently going on now (if saying something twice is redundant, what is saying something three times—re-redundant?)

 . . . trees in full leaf canopy (while camera pans over pine trees—cameraman needs biology lesson)

 . . . because some of these buildings, in 70 mph winds, could easily get as high as 90 mph (I am not making this up. This was said by everybody's favorite hurricane guy, Jim Cantore)

There are flooding on some roads . . . (*headdesk*)

 . . . coming ashore around 8, 9, 10 pm this evening (as opposed to 10 pm this morning)

I do understand the urgency of getting information out quickly in these situations, and I hate to bag on anybody who is under stress, but sometimes I think they're just looking for ways to say things more dramatically whether they make sense or not.

I'm going to post this now before the power goes out even though I haven't actually given a lesson. If I have a chance to come back after supper and add one, I'll do that.

Those of you in Sandy's path, hang in there and be safe! And watch out for those 90 mph buildings.

Be thankful ~

*Later*

Here are a few more from this evening's report:


We’re following Sandy with a fine-tooth comb. (I loved mixed metaphors.)

This is going to be a very enormous effort. (Which is bigger than just a plain old enormous effort.)

It’s gonna be a lot more hairy here. (Thank you for that critical information.)

Sunday, October 28, 2012

31 Days: Day 28 — In which I talk about myself.

 
No worries; this isn't going to be a narcissistic post. I want to talk about the word myself.

Have you ever heard someone say something like this:

1. If you are interested in going, please let either Bill or myself know.

or

2. Give the extra books to myself.


What exactly is the word myself, and when should you use it?


Myself is a reflexive pronoun—a pronoun used reflexively. It directs the action of the verb back on the speaker, who is also the doer (think of looking in a mirror and seeing your reflection). Like this:


I will drive myself to my appointment. (The doer and the receiver of the action are the same person.)


It is also used to indicate something that is done by the speaker alone, like this:


I will grind the wheat myself. (I am doing something by myself, alone, with no help from anyone.)


I bought coffee for Ben and myself. (Remove Ben from the sentence and you'll see that myself is correct.)


So unless the speaker is the doer AND the receiver of the action, don't use myself. Let's go back to the first two examples.


1. If you are interested in going, please let either Bill or myself know. (If you take Bill out, you'll see that the correct pronoun is me; please let me know.)

2. Give the extra books to myself. (No. You want the word that will be the object of the preposition to. Give the extra books to me.)

In both examples, the receiver of the action is me, but the doer is someone else. Only use myself when the doer and the receiver are the same person.

Myself is often used incorrectly because people are afraid of the word me, so they use myself, thinking it makes them sound smart. It doesn't. Use I when you are the subject. Use me when you are the direct or indirect object or the object of a preposition (Give the books to me). When you are both the doer and receiver of the action, use myself.

Myself (and other reflexive pronouns himself, herself, themselves, etc.) can be used in other ways too, but those are not usually the problematic issues. The one that gives most people trouble is when they try to substitute a reflexive pronoun for an objective case one. Don't be like them.

Be thankful ~

PS. I also want to add that, despite my husband's valiant argument, he is still incorrect when it comes to the Oxford comma. If and were the ultimate divider, we wouldn't need any commas at all; we would just use a bunch of ands. Furthermore, one of us is a professional editor and the other is a defense contractor.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Not quite Day 28.

Just letting you know today was a rough day, so as of this moment, there is nothing to auto-post early on the 28th. But I do have a few grammar-related thoughts rolling around in my foggy head. I'll try to get them up here sometime during the day. I'm really trying to finish the whole 31 days, which at this point feels like a marathon.

Be thankful ~

31 Days: Day 27 — The Oxford comma and why editors will always have jobs.

 
Copied and pasted directly from a discussion board at bookcareers.com for people who are working or trying to find work in the publishing industry comes this new evidence that there will always be a need for copy editors:

"I have been in the Publishing Industry for 11 years and left now 3years ago but is struggling to get back into the trade. I am currently doing a Business Management Diploma and is looking for a job"

I hope this young lady's diploma includes courses in basic grammar and writing. 

--------------------

Let's talk about the Oxford comma, and since this is my blog, I'm going to do all the talking.

Also called the serial comma, it refers to the last comma (the one directly before and) in a series. For example, She had cereal, milk, and fruit for breakfast. We list three (or eight, or ninety-seven) things, and each item is followed by a comma, including the item just before the and.

I don't care what your arguments are, you will never convince me that the Oxford comma should not be used, and for the record, CMOS agrees with me. If CMOS ever changes its collective mind, I will stand firm on my own mountain of punctuation clarity and insist on using it.

Take this example from the jar of Nutella in my own kitchen:






In their example of a tasty yet balanced breakfast, they begin with a glass of skim milk, and then put orange juice and Nutella on whole wheat bread.

Do you see the problem?

That's not what I want in my bowl first thing in the morning. Use the comma to make it "a glass of skim milk, orange juice, and Nutella on whole wheat bread."

Now, there are people who say we should only use it when its needed to avoid confusion. Let me just tell you why that doesn't work.

It doesn't work because the rules of punctuation are all about consistency, and it is the consistency that lets us figure out what the writer means. If we know the Oxford comma is always used, and we still see a statement like the one on my Nutella jar, then we KNOW the writer means to put orange juice and Nutella on his whole wheat bread. If there's no consistency, we don't know anything—other than that the writer eats nasty stuff for breakfast, but we're not sure, because how do we know whether he is a user of the Oxford comma or not? Maybe he means it to be that way. Or maybe he is just not a user of the Oxford comma. How do we know?

We don't. Be consistent. Use the comma.

Be thankful ~

Thursday, October 25, 2012

31 Days: Days 25 and 26

Why, yes. I did skip a day. But what a day it's been.

Those of you who know me or are friends with me on Facebook already know that we think we have discovered the root of the mystery illness. For the rest of you, here's the (hopefully short) story:

Wednesday evening I was a little early for my singing group's rehearsal at church, so the pianist—who happens to own the farm where I get my beef, chicken, eggs, and milk—and I were talking about my sickness. I was rehashing everything that's been done already and lamenting the fact that no one can figure anything out. Somewhere in the conversation, I mentioned that I had been taking a certain medication since June that was prescribed for my hot flashes. It only worked marginallly, even after the dose was doubled, so I decided I would stop taking it. I called the doctor, who told me to wean myself off of it by taking one pill every other day for two weeks; then I could stop.

I followed orders because I'm a good girl. But three days after my last dose, I thought I had the flu, and that was the beginning of the mystery illness.

Why I never put those two events together is beyond me, but there you have it. I'm glad Kelly did. She suggested that I go home and Google "name of drug + side effects" and I did. It didn't take long to find site after site of people telling stories of terrible withdrawal symptoms, every one of which I now have. In case you're wondering, the drug is venlafaxine. It's an anti-depressant that's commonly prescribed for hot flashes, as in my case.

So from now on, in addition to asking my doctor if there are any side effects of a drug he wants to prescribe, I will also ask if there will be withdrawal symptoms when I stop taking it.

The difficulty now will be getting this garbage out of my system so I can feel normal again. I'm starting with a cleanse and Omega 3s in the form of fish oil (the real stuff, not the pills) on the recommendation of my daughter. I have no idea how long this will take. So the good news is that we know what's wrong. The bad news is that we're not quite sure about fixing it. But at least we have a place to start.

On to grammar.






And what luck! While I was in the health food store buying my delectable fish oil, I saw this sign:



I'm sure the owner was wondering why I was taking a picture of her sign, but I just kept talking and acting like nothing else was going on. Do you know what's wrong with it? I sent it to Leah and she replied, "Your turkey's in good hands with Allstate." If you still don't know, go re-read Day 10.

Be thankful ~

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

31 Days: Day 24 — I skipped a day, irregardless. ;)

 
Every day I realize at about 9 pm that I have not yet written a post for the following morning. And every day at about 9:01 pm I feel like I've been hit by a bus. It's not a good combination. So my apologies once again, but this will be short.

However, short does not indicate a lack of importance. Tonight I'm going to highlight two words that are misspoken much more often than they are used correctly. One, in fact, is not even a word.

1. Prerogative = a right or privilege. It is your prerogative to vote for the candidate of your choice. This word is most often pronounced per-ogative. But look at it closely. PRE-rogative.

2. Irregardless = not a word. The word you're looking for here is regardless, which means despite the circumstances. The terror threat was high, but she went on her trip to the Middle East regardless. Just know this: irregardless is never a word. Ever. Its use is rampant though. Even the spell checker in my computer thinks it's a word, as evidenced by the lack of a squiggly red line under it. And dictionary.com lists it as the nonstandard form of regardless.

People, this is how non-words become words—by constant use in spite of the fact that they are NOT WORDS. Do your part to save the English language! Stop using this non-word today!

3. A few others that have come across my desk recently:

verb batim: Apparently our current president says this all the time, not knowing it is one word, verbatim.

preventially: We think the writer meant potentially.

apart: a preposition that means a little distance away. This does not mean a portion of or included in one of the subdivisions of. That is written a part, as in I want to be a part of that group.

Ben and I sat through a 30-minute orientation lecture when Abbey first went to Liberty University. The guy giving the lecture had put a great deal of effort into a PowerPoint presentation, but every time he meant a part he wrote apart. Page after page after page of putting distance between students and the school when he meant them to be A PART of the school. It was so sad. Ben offered him my editorial services, but he had no idea what we were talking about.

The moral of the story? Everybody needs an editor. If you write, you need someone to proofread your writing. Every article I ever publish gets edited by at least one person, but usually two, because you know what? I'm human too. This is why editors have jobs.

Be thankful ~

ps. I just have to add this:

Lose = to miss from one's possession. Be careful you don't lose your wallet!

Loose = not fastened or securely attached. That button is loose.

I just read this on SportsInjuryClinic.com regarding plantar fascitis:

As the fascia thickens it looses flexibility and strength. This says the opposite of what they mean. Remember: everybody needs an editor.



Monday, October 22, 2012

Can that last post count for Day 23?

Just kidding. I'll be here in the morning to write. In the meantime, my new bed is calling my name . . .

Be thankful ~

There's a reason I love Snarky.

Just saw this on Twitter:


Leave it to Snarky to share this life-changing info with the rest of us. Go check out the rest of the post!

Be thankful ~

31 Days: Day 22 — How to sound really smart.


Today Ben and I drove down to Richmond to buy a bed. Ours has been gasping its last breaths for a very long time, and we finally decided I had to get some sleep if I wanted to get healthy, which I do. We've been researching this purchase for a while and had pretty much decided we wanted a Sleep Number bed, but then I read a bunch of not-so-hot reviews on epinions.com (my favorite review site) and I got scared. Nothing like a $3000 price tag and poor reviews to make you embrace the old innerspring technology.

Anyway, Consumer Reports recommended The Original Mattress Factory, which makes and markets its own mattresses, so we hooked up the trailer to the new truck (isn't that handy?) and drove down. It took me about half a second to decide which one I wanted, and now it is perched happily in my bedroom where the old bed used to be, and I am enjoying its plushy softness.

So why am I telling you all this? Because the salesman, while he was very friendly and helpful, committed every grammatical sin in the history of grammar in rapid-fire succession, including saying tooken. I told Leah I felt like I was at the wrong end of a machine gun, blinking and shuddering every time another one came out. There were so many English mistakes I can't remember them because my brain shut down and went into survival mode.

Know this: tooken is not a word. It will never be a word. Forget you ever heard or saw it, and never let it come out of your mouth. Amen and amen.

A mini lesson: Here's how to know when to use further and when to use farther:

farther = physical distance

further = figurative distance; in addition to

Your school is farther away than mine. (farther has the word far in it)

After further review, the ruling on the field stands. (a figurative distance)

I detest brussels sprouts. Further, I can't stand spinach. (in addition to what I just said) (You could also say furthermore here)

So, not only can you use the correct word, but you can sound really smart when you explain how you knew which one to use. Aren't you glad you came here today?

Now go forth and impress your friends! And remember, no tooken.

Be thankful ~

Sunday, October 21, 2012

31 Days: Day 21— In which we have a little drama.

 
Here's what my day looked like:

After very sketchy sleep for the past two nights, I spent the morning doing some editing, and then Ben and I went out to spend a whole lot of money buying a truck. When we first pulled in to the car lot, Ben got a text from his friend TJ, who is in St. Louis with Mansquared and a few other people to see the Rams/Packers game tomorrow. This is the trip Ben decided not to go on because he didn't want to leave me home alone sick.

It turns out that might have been a better decision than he thought.

TJ was texting because the group was getting ready to go out and do something but they couldn't find Mansquared and his friend Nathan (who drove up from Noodleville, TN to go to the game with him since Ben was not there and somebody had to use the ticket).

So Ben texted TJ Mansquared's cell phone number, and we went in to buy a truck.

(I realize this has nothing to do with grammar, but it's been that kind of day. I'll get to grammar in a minute.)

But being a mother, I couldn't get past the fact that my son was 14 hours away in a strange city and no one knew where he was. So I sent him a text: Did TJ find you?

Twenty minutes later, he called. When I said, "Hello?" I heard groaning and a pitiful voice said, "I'm dying."

Well, no, he's not at all dramatic.

Once I ascertained he was not dying of a gunshot wound in some back alley, I began the painful process of extracting specific information from a weak and dying 19-year-old male.

There is puking. There is weakness and stomach pain and body aches. We think it's food poisoning, since only he and TJ have it. If it were a virus, the others would get it (we hope they don't).

So I gave my standard advice for teenage boys far from home with no mother figure: Send Nathan out for ginger ale and saltine crackers (except auto-correct changed it to saline crackers, which is almost as accurate). I hope Nathan's parents don't mind me sending their kid out into a strange city.

I just sent another text (9:45 pm) to see if the puking had stopped yet. While I was in the bathtub tonight I wondered if he has his insurance card and military ID with him in case they have to take him to the hospital for dehydration. I don't know where that boy gets his drama.

Anyway, we finally got the truck Ben wanted, and he is fully prepared to hop in and drive to St. Louis if it's necessary. I think he's secretly hoping it is. See how hopeful he looks?


Grammar.

Today I'm going to share a common error that drives me crazy, which the grammar gurus at Chicago Manual of Style have now decided is perfectly acceptable. And I want to hang them by their toenails for it.

We've covered the topic of pronouns and their antecedents here before. Here's what I wrote, so you don't even have to click over there to read it:

----------
Everyone knows what a pronoun is. It's a word that takes the place of a noun, so you don't have to sound ridiculous like this:

          Bob rode Bob's bike five miles to Bob's house.

Instead, you can sound intelligent and say:

          Bob rode his bike five miles to his house.

In the second sentence, his is the pronoun, and Bob is what we call the antecedent, or the noun to which the pronoun refers. I think Bob needs a car, but that's another story for another day.

The funny thing about pronouns and antecedents, though, is that they must match in number. Singular antecedent, singular pronoun. Plural antecedent, plural pronoun.

You wouldn't say:


          Bob rode their bike five miles to their house.

would you? It doesn't even sound right. Yet I see this error all. the. time.

Take the letter I got from Liberty University (the school I am currently paying $25,000 a year to educate my daughter) today. Here's how it begins:

          Dear Parent/Guardian,

          Over the years, you have invested in the life of your child. As the time comes for you to guide them . . .

Wait, what? THEM? I thought we were talking about my CHILD (singular). Why would we use a plural pronoun?

The $25,000 answer is: we wouldn't. We would use one of the singular pronouns, her or him. Since this is obviously a form letter, we would say, As the time comes for you to guide him/her . . .

Unless you are the parent of twins, in which case you would be out of your mind sending them to Liberty anyway. That would be $50,000 a year.
----------

Well now the editors at CMOS have decided that it's okay to use a singular noun and refer to it with the plural pronoun their. As in each student should have their own book.

In the words of Jerry Seinfeld, really? You're a major style guide and now you're giving permission to further butcher the number-one language in the world? Great. And how do you propose we explain THIS exception to ESL learners? As if English weren't difficult enough!

I can't begin to tell you how much this frustrates me, and I've already determined that I will fight this ruling tooth and nail. I will not give in. I will not take part in throwing another aspect of a perfectly good language on the compost heap to rot with the potato peelings.

It's a good thing I'm not the dramatic type.

Be thankful ~

Saturday, October 20, 2012

31 Days: Day 20 — Moody little things, aren't they? (In which I cheat.)

As I was typing Day 20 in the title bar above, this thought popped into my head: Hey! We're in the double digits!

Then I realized we've been in the double digits for ten days already. My brain is still fuzzy. But hey, what's a little foggy thinking between friends?


Today we're going to talk about verb moods. Yes, there really is such a thing. And while I might be feeling a very little bit better tonight, I'm going to be lazy and link to two of my all-time favorite sites to explain the hard part. Why reinvent the wheel?

Basically, unlike teenage girls, verbs can have three moods:

1. Indicative, used for most statements and questions, is pretty straightforward and easy to understand.

I kick the dog. Bill drives the car. Do you want fries with that?

(In the question, the verb phrase is do want.)

2. Imperative, used to indicate a command, also isn't complicated.

Go to bed. Do your homework. Give me fries with that.

(In most cases, the subject in an imperative sentence is understood.)

3. Subjunctive, used to indicate wishful or hypothetical thinking, is a bit trickier. 

Subjunctive is used in if only and as if kinds of statements. Remember Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof? He used the subjunctive:

If I were a rich man,
Daidle deedle daidle
Daidle daidle deedle daidle dum
All day long I'd biddy-biddy-bum
If I were a wealthy man.

The Newsboys sing Dance like no one is lookin' when what they should say is Dance as if no one were looking. But I'm not going to be the one to break that bad news to them. They're filthy rich; they can pretty much do as they please.

But, if you want really good (and fun!) explanations of the subjunctive mood, or if you want to learn when to say I was and when to say I were, check out my two favorite grammar blogs on the subjunctive: Mignon Fogarty's Grammar Girl and The Snarky Student's Guide to Grammar

I realize this is cheating on my part, but the mystery illness may be losing just a teensy bit of a foothold, and I'm trying to give my body a fighting chance. I'm being lazy. I figure most people don't even know there is such a thing as verb moods, so if I bring it up and then point you in the right direction, I've done my part.

And I can go to bed. My family thanks you.

Nighty-night.

Be thankful ~



Friday, October 19, 2012

Gateway to the West . . . and the heaves.

Mansquared is in St. Louis this weekend with a bunch of Ben's friends going to the Rams vs. Packers football game on Sunday. Ben was supposed to be there too except that I got sick and never got better. He made the very sweet decision to stay home and take care of me a few days before they were supposed to go. I felt bad and tried my hardest to talk him into going, but he wouldn't do it.

The day before they were leaving, I woke up with a big knot in my upper back, probably from all the lying around I've been doing. The day they were leaving Ben got up early to see them off with a big breakfast, and when he came in the bedroom as I was waking up, I could hardly move. I was reduced to tears just trying to lift my right arm.

So the bottom line is this: it's a good thing he stayed home. He got me to the chiropractor, forced me to do nothing, and got me an antibiotic to try, just in case the mystery illness is bacterial. I've not been the best patient, but he's been very sweet and good at taking care of me.

So today I got this cell phone picture from Mansquared with the caption "The specks are people."


I couldn't tell what it was on my phone, so I texted back, "What is it?" and he answered, "I'm in the Arch!" and I immediately felt woozy. The white things are buses. And Mansquared says the Arch sways in the wind. I'd be puking for sure.

Ben is glad he missed this part. :)

Be thankful ~

31 Days: Day 19 — Sayings, and where they come from.

It's amazing how slowly a month goes by when you know you have to write something substantial on the blog every single day. But we've made it to Day 19, so I'm thinking we can get to the end without catastrophe.


Today we're going to talk about the origins of a few phrases you probably hear regularly. You'll be interested to know that they all come from the Bible, only now you'll know the rest of the story.

(RIP, Paul Harvey.)

1. You probably already know that a scapegoat is "one who bears the blame for others." (Dictionary.com) Every year on the Day of Atonement, the Israelites' priest would pile all the sins of the people on the head of the scapegoat and then send it out into the wilderness. What you may not know is that the scapegoat was the lucky one. Read what it says in Leviticus 16:7-10.

And he shall take the two goats, and present them before the LORD at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation.
And Aaron shall cast lots upon the two goats; one lot for the LORD, and the other lot for the scapegoat.
And Aaron shall bring the goat upon which the LORD'S lot fell, and offer him for a sin offering.
But the goat, on which the lot fell to be the scapegoat, shall be presented alive before the LORD, to make an atonement with him, and to let him go for a scapegoat into the wilderness.

At least the scapegoat got out of there alive.

This idiom was brought to mind by my lovely niece Megan, who wrote telling me about a Facebook sighting that referenced "the escape goat" which we thought might be some kind of Trojan getaway vehicle.

2.  Then there are sour grapes, defined by Dictionary.com as "disparagement of something that has proven unattainable." In other words, talking bad about something because you're mad you couldn't get it. A proverb about sour grapes is referenced in a couple of places in the Bible. One of them is Ezekiel 18:2-3.

What mean ye, that ye use this proverb concerning the land of Israel, saying, The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge?
As I live, saith the Lord GOD, ye shall not have occasion any more to use this proverb in Israel.

So apparently there was a proverb about sour grapes, and God didn't want them to use it. Some say it was Aesop's The Fox and the Grapes. You can read it here. Go ahead; it's short. I learned all this just now while I was writing this post. Since Aesop lived in ancient Greece (Old Testament timeframe), it could very well have been his proverb they're talking about.

3. Have you ever heard someone claim to see the handwriting on the wall? It's what we say when we know something bad is coming, and the saying originates in Daniel 5. The story takes the whole chapter, so I won't print it out on the blog, but you can read it here. Go ahead; once you read the story, you won't forget it.

A few things to know: Belshazzar was the king of Babylon. The Babylonians had (under his father, Nebuchadnezzar's rule) taken the Jews captive and raided the "stuff" that was used in the temple—the gold and silver cups, etc. That's what Belshazzar and his cohorts were drinking out of at his feast. They were desecrating the stuff the Jews had set apart for use only in their service to the Lord. Hence, the handwriting on the wall.

It's my opinion that the correct idiom is "the hand writing on the wall," where hand writing is two separate words. I think that's the case because at the end of verse 5 it says, "the king saw the part of the hand that wrote." He saw the hand . . . writing on the wall, and that's what freaked him out. It wasn't the handwriting, it was the hand . . . writing. Again, a little space makes a world of difference.

4. And finally, when we just barely eke out a victory, we say we held on by the skin of our teeth. Basically, it's the narrowest margin conceivable. This one comes from Job 19. The main character of the book is Job, who is a wealthy man with sons and daughters and lots of animals. Satan tries to tell God that if Job loses everything, he won't remain faithful—he will curse God. So God tells Satan he can do anything he wants to Job, but he can't kill him. Satan destroys all of Job's wealth plus his entire family, except for his useless wife who tells Job to "curse God and die." Job sits in the dust in his filthy, torn clothes and scrapes the sores on his skin with a broken piece of pottery. Then his three friends come along and try to encourage him, guessing at what sin he must have committed to bring all this judgment from God on himself. It's a miserable story and a worse test any I ever want to go through. So in Job 19:20, Job says, "My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, and I am escaped with the skin of my teeth," meaning barely. It's a pretty depressing book until the end when Job passes the test and God restores to him much more than he had and lost in the beginning. If you ever think you're having a bad day, go read Job.

And can you believe I actually have this post done on the 18th and it will be up at 4 am like it's supposed to be? Wonders never cease.

Be thankful ~


Thursday, October 18, 2012

31 Days: Day 18 — Just two more because I can't leave well enough alone.

 
Who ever thought to speak the phrase "can't leave well enough alone"? Do you ever wonder about the origins of things we say without even thinking about them? Tomorrow I'm going to try to tackle origins of several familiar phrases. You might be surprised where they come from.

But today, since I am still behind the eight ball (billiards reference), I'm going to highlight two more phrases that should not be.

I was born in Washington, DC, spent three years in California, and then finished growing up on the Jersey Shore. I can say honestly that middle-Jerseyans don't have any speech weirdisms. Youse guys comes from New York, and Joisey comes from North Jersey. I grew up grammatically sheltered. So when I went off to college in eastern Pennsylvania and started hearing different colloquialisms, it was a shocker. My friend Sharon was the first person I ever heard say that her hair "needed cut." I remember it like it was yesterday. We were sitting at the table in the dining hall drinking our after-dinner coffee (this was long before the days of Starbucks), when Sharon said with a heavy sigh, "My hair needs cut," and my grammatical world was shattered.

Since then I've heard people say "that wall needs painted" and "my car needs fixed" and all manner of other phrases that sound more awkward than a bunch of 13-year-olds at a high school dance. What is it about the word need that makes people lose their minds? I hear this non-construction mostly from Pennsylvanians.

Follow it with a noun or a group of words that acts as a noun, and you'll always be safe.

My hair needs cutting.

My hair needs to be cut.

The wall needs painting (or to be painted).

My car needs to be fixed.

Please, do your part.

Second—and I'll just go ahead and bag on Southerners here since I just got done with Yankees—who started the "might could" nonsense?

Here's what they say:

He might should have gone to college. I might could go Friday night.

This has never been an acceptable construction in any style guide anywhere on this planet. At all. Ever. Not even a little bit.

Here's what they should say:

Maybe he should have gone to college. I might be able to go Friday night.

Get the toothpick out of the corner of your mouth and speak the English of our Forefathers. You don't have to talk like an uptight Victorian, but with just a little effort, you can rise above the status of total hick.

Not that there's anything wrong with total hicks. I like total hicks. Some of my best friends etc. But knowing you are judged by what comes out of your mouth should make you want to put forth a good impression.

Go forth and speak correctly.

Be thankful ~

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

31 Days: Day 17 — With thanks to my awesome nieces.

 
Well here it is, 1:02 pm on the 17th and I'm just now sitting down to write a post. The one that was supposed to be up at 4 am. I hope no one was standing in line waiting for it.

The good news is that I am finally here, and I should be able to remain upright for about 20 minutes or so. Whatever it is that my body is fighting (aka the "mystery illness") is not the lie-down-and-take-it type. It fights back with a vengeance every time I do a little too much. Yesterday afternoon I picked up one of our cars from the shop, went to the bank, had dinner with Ben and Man-squared, and then sat in Best Buy while the geeks installed new RAM in my computer.

I felt better after my half marathon than I did by the time I got home last night, and Ben found me in a puddle of tears on the bathroom floor.

So my privileges have been taken away. I'm not going anywhere, not doing any cleaning, very little cooking, nothing more strenuous than typing. And Ben is having conference calls with a few doctors to see if we can speed up the process of figuring out just what the heck is wrong with me.

Anyway, the topic du jour centers on a few of my favorite pet peeves, and a couple that were recommended by three of my beautiful and very intelligent nieces.

1. Centers around. Before I even say anything, try to make a picture of this phrase in your mind. Centers . . . around. When you think center, you picture a bulls-eye, right? So how does something center around? The phrase should be center on.

Wrong: The topic of her speech centers around the usefulness of animal shelters.

Right: The topic of her speech centers on the usefulness of animal shelters.

2. And along those lines, this one is sent in by faithful reader (and my sweet niece) Alexis: Up underneath, as in Squirrels like to hide up underneath the hood of my car when the motor is warm. But to get to the motor, you look underneath the hood. There is no up involved.

Wrong: Squirrels like to hide up underneath the hood of my car when the motor is warm.

Right: Squirrels like to hide underneath the hood of my car when the motor is warm.

3. Sent in by two other lovely nieces, Megan and Diana, is this beaut: nother, as in The cake was so good, I had a whole nother piece. They refer to this as Nother's Disease, and unfortunately, I'm not sure a cure has been discovered yet. This construction, a whole nother, is kind of like a split infinitive except that it splits a single word—zip, right up the middle—and while you can get away with some pretty fantastic things in English, splitting another is not one of them.

Wrong: The cake was so good, I had a whole nother piece.

Right: The cake was so good, I had another whole piece. (or simply another piece) (or you could go on a diet and solve the whole problem)

4. Sometimes people say phrases the way they hear them spoken, but never seeing them written, they're not sure what the phrases really say.

When my kids were little, they watched a movie called The Ransom of Red Chief. I can remember them rolling around on the floor and howling with laughter when some immigrant lady proudly sang the "Star Spangled Banner." Here's what she sang (try to sing along without laughing):

. . . Oh! The lamb's heart we bought
Were so gallant we screaming.
And the robin's dead stare
Bonbons melting in hair,
Gave proof to red flight
That our dragons were bare.
Oh! Say does that bear strangle
Hammer lie bleeding?
Oh, the lambs, they are for free!
And the bombs in the cake!

This is a pretty extreme example, but this kind of stuff happens all the time. The most recent example of this my niece Diana saw was when someone wrote for all intensive purposes. I guess whatever the person was talking about didn't apply to mild purposes. The correct phrase is for all intents and purposes.

And there you have it. Better late than never, right?

Be thankful ~

Excuses, excuses.

Alas, the mystery illness has me down. I promise to write and post Day 17 sometime before noon.

Be thankful ~

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The morning's view.

Just wanted to share the view off my deck this morning. We're so surrounded by trees here, we almost never get a good view of a sunrise or sunset. But I just happened to look out the french doors this morning and saw this:


Be thankful ~

31 Days: Day 16 — Tense. Dogs, run in fear.

 
I honestly think the hardest part of this series is coming up with a catchy title every day. I'm such a black-and-white linear thinker, it's almost impossible to squeeze the creativity out.

So let's get on with what I'm good at, shall we? Today we're going to talk about tense and I'm going to share a confession that will make my mother, the retired English teacher, cringe.

I don't remember learning any of this in elementary or middle school. My first memory of being taught and understanding the basic tenses was in tenth grade, German II. I was 15 years old. And when Herr Couche wrote the explanation on the board, a light bulb the size of Texas went off in my head and I suddenly got both English and German all in one fell swoop. It was the most amazing feeling! Were it not for some pretty intense peer pressure, I would have shouted right there in the third row.

Now I know some of you are already getting tense (Haha, get it? Tense?) just thinking about all the confusing jargon that's about to hit the proverbial fan here, but let me reassure you, it's pretty simple. Let's define two words that will help it all make perfect (oh, I crack myself up) sense:

Tense = time

Perfect = completed

Verb tense simply tells what time the action happened. The perfect tenses tell when the action was completed. Watch.


There are three simple tenses:

Present:     I kick the dog. (I'm doing it right now. It's happening as we speak.)

Past:          I kicked the dog. (Just got done doing it.)

Future:      I will kick the dog. (Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, but it will happen in the future.)


Then there are three perfect tenses. And remember, perfect means complete. It tells us when an action is completed.

Present perfect:     I have kicked the dog. (I'm finished kicking him as of right now.)

Past perfect:          I had kicked the dog. (I was finished kicking him at some point in the past.)

Future perfect:      I will have kicked the dog. (I will be finished at some point in the future.)


(Please understand, I am not a dog kicker. I have never kicked dogs, nor do I advocate doing so. I like dogs, even Pete, though he tries my patience. But I've learned from experience that shock-value helps people retain the explanation. It's easy to remember that crazy teacher who kept talking about kicking dogs!)

The simple tenses are easy enough to understand. The perfect tenses are only a little more complicated. You just have to keep thinking in terms of when the action was completed.

In the present perfect, the action is complete right now. I have kicked him.

In the past perfect, you could say As of yesterday at 6 pm, I was finished kicking the dog. I had kicked him.

In the future perfect, you could say As of tomorrow at 10 am, the kicking of the dog will be completed. I will have kicked him. 

See?

So why did I feel the need to explain about six basic tenses? Because if I read the phrase "I wish I would have . . . " one more time, I will curl up in the fetal position into a frothing, trembling mass and never recover.

I wish I would have gone to the party. (Like nails on a chalkbooooooard!)

I've actually tried to analyze the phrase "wish I would have" with regard to time (tense), and each time I attempt it, I run away with my eyes closed and my hands over my ears, taking deep breaths to lower my blood pressure.

Try it: the "wish I would" part kind of indicates a looking forward, but then you add the "have" and it's like you've run up ahead of yourself and looked back on what you were saying. I can't make it work any way I try.

LISTEN. What the speaker really means is I wish I had gone to the party, because at some point in the past, the action of going to the party would be complete, and the speaker would have happy memories of the grand fête. He wishes (right now) that he had gone (finished in the past because turn out the lights, the party's over).

So please don't ever say "I wish I would have . . ." My husband doesn't want to have to scrape me up off the floor and tuck me in bed with my blankie.

Be thankful ~


Monday, October 15, 2012

31 Days: Day 15 — When prepositions go bad.


Verbs are such happy words. They allow us to do, to feel, to think, and to be anything we want. For the most part, they are easy to deal with, but sometimes we get into trouble. And as is usually the case, the trouble is of our own making. Today we're going to cover the issue of mistaken identity in helping verbs.

Have you ever seen someone write I should of tried harder? There is no such phrase as should of. People write it that way because when we speak—unlike our persnickety Victorian ancestors—we shorten things. And when we shorten things, we confuse the sounds. And when we confuse the sounds, we don't always write them correctly. It's the old apostrophe-goes-where-the-letters-are-missing thing again. Should've sounds like should of, so have gets mistaken for of, and from there it all goes to pot.

Know this: of is not a verb. Ever. It's not even a helping verb. It's a preposition that might like to be a verb, but has no chance. It's gone rogue. It's masquerading as a verb, trying to trick you into using it incorrectly.

Don't be fooled. There is no such construction as should of, would of, or could of. No more explanation is needed here because it's just not ever right. Here's all you need to know: should have, would have, could have; should've, would've, could've. Amen.

Tomorrow we'll talk about tense.

Be thankful ~

PS. And my word, can you believe how short this was?


Sunday, October 14, 2012

31 Days: Day 14 — Linky love.

 
You know how every night I say I'm tired so this will be short? Well tonight I'm not lying. Which isn't even related to yesterday's lesson regarding lie and lay. This is a different lie altogether, which is conjugated lie, lied, have lied, and doesn't usually get confused with anything other than the truth.

Now that we're clear on that . . .

Tonight I'm just going to share a few of my favorite grammar sites (not sights). Some of these are educational, some are just plain fun, and some are a little of both. Enjoy!

Grammar Gorillas is a game that can be played at two levels. Good for practicing basic grammar.

Grammar Girl Mignon Fogarty shares a daily grammar/usage lesson that's easy to understand and useful in everyday life. I like her writing style.

The Snarky Student's Guide to Grammar also features daily lessons, and you can send in examples of errors you find in the wild.

I recently discovered Elizabeth at Grammar Revolution on Twitter. Elizabeth and I share a love of diagramming sentences. She's a true kindred spirit. Don't write her off until you visit her site.

You all know I'm a fan of Bill Walsh, copy editor at The Washington Post. Bill's website is The Slot, which began in August 1995 as the Crusty Old Slot Man's Copy-Editing Peeve Page. He is definitely crusty, but I love reading his grumblings—he's the Walter Matthau of English. He also writes Blogslot, the companion blog to The Slot.

And finally, if you get a kick out of the improper use of quotation marks, check out the "blog" of "unnecessary" quotation marks. It's usually good for a laugh.

Can you believe how short this is? I'm even surprised myself. But exhaustion will do that. Back tomorrow with more good grammar.

Be thankful ~


Saturday, October 13, 2012

31 Days: Day 13 — What to do if you're tired.

 
Welcome back! Can you believe we're almost halfway through the month? I hope you've learned a little something you didn't already know, or you've at least been entertained. Every time I sit down to write a post, I learn something new. You may think I really am the "Grammar Queen," as my family calls me, but the truth is that I only know the basics of grammar, punctuation, and usage. Everything else I look up. Really! I keep a stack of books on my desk and refer to them daily. I have:
  • Merriam Webster's College Dictionary
  • The Chicago Manual of Style, 16th ed.
  • The Gregg Reference Manual, 10th ed.
  • Progressing with Courage, Rod and Staff Publishers' 6th-grade English text
  • King James Bible
I also have a few other English texts, the four style guides my children had to buy for their college English classes, a thesaurus, and a few "fun" style books. If you want a dose of word-nerd laughter, get The Elephants of Style and Lapsing into a Comma, both by Bill Walsh. Between all my references and Google, there's not a grammar question I can't answer, although I have been known to ask my mother's opinion on occasion (she is a retired English teacher).

If you think you didn't learn anything in school, don't sweat it. Just get the Rod and Staff 6th-grade English book I listed above, and teach yourself. Whenever you're not sure about something, look it up. There are some fabulous websites out there that teach grammar in very easy-to-understand terms. Remember: Google is your friend. You'll find the sites you like best, (Pick the reputable ones. Wiki- anything is not reputable.) and you can bookmark them for future reference. It's never too late to learn good grammar!

Today's lesson centers on what to do when you're tired. Do you lie down or lay down?

Lie = rest or recline

Lay = put or place (something)

And that's it. If you rest or recline, you lie. If you put or place (something), you lay (something). Did you notice that lay always has a direct object, or something that gets laid down? That's the difference.

          I lie on the bed. I would rather lie on the beach.

          I lay the blanket on the bed. I would rather lay a towel on the beach.

In the second set, see how there's something that gets laid down? That's the direct object. It gets the action of the verb lay. It tells what gets laid down.

So far, so good, right? Well hold on, because here's where it gets tricky.

Let's add the past tense and the participle of each verb:

                           lie:                                                             lay:

(present)        Today I lie.                                                Today I lay the book on the table.
(past)             Yesterday I lay.                                          Yesterday I laid the book on the table.
(participle)     In the past, I have lain.                              In the past, I have laid the book on the table.

See how the past tense of lie is the same word as the present tense lay?

Don't ask why. I not sure even the Victorians could justify this mess. It's just one of those things you have to learn. When you first start using the proper forms of lie and lay, it will sound extremely awkward to you (and to everyone listening, because they don't know any better), but you have the advantage of knowing the truth, and knowledge is power!

One more thing—remember when I said if you're not going to speak correct grammar, don't expect your children to learn it out of a textbook? I was serious about that. If you are teaching your children at home and really want them to retain the grammar you spend hours teaching them, do two things: learn it yourself and be the example; and get a copy of ABeka's Oral Language Exercises and do them.  Each day there is a series of sentences that focuses on a particular aspect of grammar (such as lie/lay). You read a sentence and then your students repeat it. Do all 20 or 40 sentences. That's it. Easy-peasy. It trains your children's brains to think that what is correct sounds right. And that's when they'll start speaking with good grammar—when it sounds right to them.

Do the exercises every day. Go through the book every year. Year after year after year until they (and you) can just about recite it from memory. This is the BEST thing you can do for your English program.

Years ago when we were still in the Navy and my kids were maybe 4, 7, 9, 10, and 12, we went to a retirement ceremony where a well-known Navy poem was read. In it, there's a (present tense) line that goes, "and lay about smartly." When that line was read, Leah, the 9 year old, leaned over and whispered to me, "Lie."

In spite of the fact that she didn't understand the nautical term lay about, she knew by listening there was no direct object, so the word should be lie. Her ability to pick out the wrong word instantly didn't come from doing worksheets or listening to me lecture. It came from hearing the words used correctly over and over and over again. It became habit in her mind. It can in yours too.

And now I'm tired. I'm going to lie in my bed. I'm also going to lay my body down.  ;)

Be thankful ~

Friday, October 12, 2012

31 Days: Day 12 — To split or not to split.

This has been a good day.

First, let me just say how much I love Michael at the Genius Bar. He speaks my language and does not laugh at my stupid questions. He explains how my computer works in terms I can totally understand. And he saved me lots of money and fixed my clicker for free. I'm a happy girl.

Furthermore, my friend Kelly, whose family owns the farm where I get my milk, eggs, chicken, and beef, recently published a book of photographs of all the farm operations, and guess whose photo of the adorable calf made the cover!


You didn't know I had so many hidden talents, did you?

But enough about me. On to grammar.


I was sorely tempted to bag on the Southerners again today based on a construction I hear ALL. THE. TIME. but decided I would approach that on a day when I'd had more sleep. Today we're going to talk about the split infinitive.

First, let's find out what an infinitive is. An infinitive consists of the word to plus the simple form of a verb:

to see, to jump, to feel, to live, to laugh, to cry, to be

You get the idea. And now you know that Shakespeare loved his infinitives. Here are a few infinitive phrases:

to kick the ball; to pet the dog; to swim laps; to paint the house; to be satisfied

What you may not know is this: even though it contains a verb form, an infinitive is NOT used as a verb.

1.) An infinitive phrase can function as a noun:

Mansquared's goal is to eat more food than anyone else.

To eat more food than anyone else functions as a noun—in this case it is a predicate noun; it is what Mansquared's goal is.


2.) An infinitive phrase can function as an adjective:

Cooking is the best way to win a man.

The phrase to win a man is used as an adjective. It tells what kind of way.


3.) An infinitive phrase can function as an adverb:

Study to shew thyself approved.

The phrase to shew thyself approved is used as an adverb. It tells why you study.


(When you're looking for an infinitive, be careful not to confuse it with a prepositional phrase that begins with to: to the store, to my home, etc.)


Now that you know what an infinitive is, let's take it a step further. A split infinitive takes an infinitive and shoves an adverb between the to and the bare verb:

to neatly paint; to quickly run

That's it. No big deal, right? So why all the hoopla over split infinitives?

There are different theories as to the origin of the no-split-infinitives rule, but basically it appears that the rule comes from the Victorian thought that, since you couldn't split infinitives in Latin, you shouldn't split them in English either. They were true prescriptivists back then.

Then the Puritans made their way to America, caution got thrown to the wind, and the English language has been taking a nosedive ever since. So what it comes down to is this: if you feel like throwing an adverb in the middle of your infinitive, split with no guilt. We won our independence from the infinitive police in the 1700s.

By the way, this phrase from the beginning voiceover of StarTrek may be the world's most famous split infinitive:

To boldly go where no man has gone before . . .

Now try saying it this way:

To go boldly where no man has gone before . . . 

or

Boldly to go where no man has gone before . . .

Doesn't have the same ring, does it? Sometimes you just have to split.
Be thankful ~








Thursday, October 11, 2012

31 Days: Day 11 — All I can say is . . . Really?

This may be the shortest post in the history of 31 Days to Better Grammar. All eleven days of it.

The mystery illness has been kicking my patootie the last two days, and it is already 8:31 pm on Day 10 with no Day 11 post in sight. I'm fading quickly.

But because I lean heavily toward verbosity, let me first share this little tidbit. (You knew it was too good to be true, didn't you?) I found out yesterday that there is an 18-year-old young man who is reading and enjoying this series. He says it's helping him understand grammar in a way he never has before. Can I tell you how happy that makes me? As an English lover and to-the-core word nerd, I want everyone to love it as much as I do, so the thought that I can help shed some light on a subject that so many people hate really spins my prop (that's an old Navy Air term). And I'm thrilled that he was willing to tell his mother about it. I won't reveal (or even hint at) his identity—to protect his reputation among his peers.  ;)


Today I'm just going to share a few of the easily confused pairs you said drove you crazy, in hope that someone else may learn from them and that will be one fewer person in the world to get on your last nerve. Think of it as my public service for the day.

1. immigrate vs. emigrate

immigrate = enter a country and take up residence. (think In)

emigrate = leave one's home country and move to another to take up residence (think Exit)

Jacob emigrated from Israel to America.  My mother immigrated when she was a teen.


2. site vs. sight

site = physical location of a structure or event; Internet address

sight = something that is seen

I caught sight of the building's site. I can't stand the sight of that site.


3. cease vs. seize

This one really surprised me. I mean, the two words don't even sound alike. But apparently, they are mixed up regularly on Facebook.

Really? Bad grammar on Facebook?

cease = stop an action

seize = grasp and hold on

Seize the day. Cease bickering. But if you cease the day or seize the bickering, we're all in trouble.


4. prophet vs. profit

The last one surprised me; this one stuns me. I want to say (like Jerry Seinfeld) Really?

Seen in a church publication recently, this one said "Jesus was a profit." Really? Not only is it a misspelling, it's wrong doctrinally.


prophet = one who utters divinely inspired revelations

profit = the excess of income over expenditures in a transaction or series of transactions

A prophet foretold the birth of Christ. I hope my business operates at a profit.


That last one may prevent me from sleeping tonight. I'll try to have a more positive lesson tomorrow.

Be thankful ~



Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Not part of 31 Days, but kind of.

When I was writing Day 10's post about confused word pairs, I invited readers to share their most-hated favorites in the comments so we could commiserate.

As soon as I typed that word commiserate, I thought, hey, that's a combination of the prefix co-, meaning "with or alongside of", and the Latin miseria, meaning "wretchedness." It means "to be wretched or miserable with." I was so confident of this little factoid, I wrote it in the post.

But then my little editor brain chimed in and said, you better check that first. So I researched, and here's the correction.

Did you know there is an Online Etymology Dictionary? Indeed there is, and it's one of my favorite tools. I love finding out where words come from. Go check it out and start typing in random words. You'll be hooked.

So I went to my handy-dandy OED and typed in commiserate, and do you know what I found out?

It comes from the word commiserari (Latin, c.1600), which means "to pity or bewail." Still, the 1600s are pretty recent as far as words go, so I kept reading for more history.

Even Latin words come from other words (usually also Latin ones, since the Romans didn't have much else to work with. They thought the Greeks were barbarians and didn't want to muddy up their precious Latin with that nasty Greek), and commiserari came to the 1600s from miserere. It's used in Psalm 51:1, Miserere mei Deus . . . Have mercy upon me, O God.

Miserere started out meaning "wretchedness." In Psalm 51, miserere is closer to "pity" or "mercy" than "wretchedness," but can you see how closely our wretchedness is linked to God's mercy?


Sometimes I start looking at the origin of a word and wind up somewhere far out in left field, and God is waiting there to bless me. His Word and his words are perfect.

Be thankful ~

31 Days: Day 10 — When spell-check won't help.

 
Woohoo! A third of the way through our 31 days!

I will admit this 31 Days endeavor has turned out to be much more difficult than I anticipated. I figured by working with a subject I know and love, it would take me maybe 20 minutes a day to write a post, and—BAM—I'd be done. Piece of cake. However, I seem to have underestimated my own verbosity, which is really saying something.

Ha! Get it? Verbosity? Saying something? (I'm trying to get a grip. I haven't had nearly enough sleep lately, and the mystery illness is taking its toll.)

Where was I?

Ahem.

Today we're going to talk about pairs of easily confused words. There are hundreds of these pairs floating around—more now that we have the Internet—but we'll concentrate on just a few that I see regularly and that drive me particularly crazy. I'm sure you have your own favorites; feel free to leave them in the comments so we can all commiserate.

The problem with pairs of words like this is that, as a society, we've become very dependent on spell-check. And as long as these words are spelled correctly, spell-check won't flag them. It doesn't know which one you mean. That's up to you.

The three pairs that cause me the most eye-rolling, teeth-clenching, groaning grief are

bare/bear          ensure/insure          accept/except

So let's take them one at a time. I'll give only the definitions that pertain to our discussion; there are many more that are unrelated. (If you want to know more, feel free to read the dictionary. I've actually done that before, and you can't imagine how much stuff you learn. I also read style guides and laugh hilariously at them. So fun!) (Heh. ☺ Sorry.)

bare = unclothed; uncovered.
bear = support; allow oneself to be subjected to without complaint.

So if you write bare with me, I will answer with an emphatic No. It should be bear with me. And we don't bare one another's burdens; we bear them.

Also, barely means hardly. These mistakes are barely bearable.


ensure = to make sure; guarantee.
insure = to provide or obtain insurance for.

My daughter Leah once took a history class in college (one was enough). When she received the syllabus, she was horrified to read statements like "Insure papers are submitted through (website name)." and "This will insure you meet the deadline for submission."

An English teacher he was NOT. In both cases, the word should be ensure

Whenever you want to make sure something happens, you mean ensure. If you buy or sell a policy that protects against loss of an asset, you mean insure.


accept = to receive willingly.
except = with the exclusion or exception of.

This is a picture of a real sign in front of a real church near my home. It may be the saddest sign I've ever seen.


I'm hoping that's enough to show you the difference between accepts (which is what this sign should say, since Jesus willingly receives trade-ins) and excepts (which isn't even a usable form of the word that isn't the right one to use here. You're fired!)

So what about you? What are your favorite confused words?

Be thankful ~


*(All definitions taken from http://www.merriam-webster.com)
*Thanks to my proofreader, Kelly, for catching my typo. :)