The roots grew wide and deep. My grandma never missed an episode of Wheel of Fortune. My grandpa’s love of the daily Jumble and the Sunday crossword puzzles passed on through my mom to my sister and me. Pair these influences with Mom, who is a retired speech-language pathologist, and Dad, who is a retired middle school reading teacher, and there is no way to escape the literary world that raised me.
In school, my friend and I carried on with a handwriting analysis phase, deriving meaning from scribbles and loops. We embraced words and learned a secret language. Nerds have more fun.
Writers like J. K. Rowling and Roald Dahl who play with language to create vocabulary delight me. Bludgers or everlasting gobstoppers, anyone? People who pull accents amuse me–like Jimmy Fallon talking AND singing as Bruce Springsteen. Bill Burr utters a Dohjesus and I’m sure to laugh. The spoken and written word fascinates me.
Words can be pleasing to my eyes and ears. A plump Fasnacht rolls into my life. A cartoon Snore emits zzzzs under covers. Argyle demands notice. Paprikash–admittedly because of Billy Crystal–continues to amuse me. Cappuccino looks sophisticated. Thyme enhances dinner.
Words can bother me. Romper–ugh. Banish that first R in Particular. Leave Chantilly lace in the 1700s. Roadblock Adjunct. When I see Registrar, yawning lions emerge.
Twelfth is a mouthful of sand.
My love of words intensified after my visual impairment progressed. Clever sentences, word play, enunciation, regional dialect, speech cadence–it all rolls by on the conveyor belt of my linguistic interest.
I write and read because I love and because those whom I love write and read, too. What do you love? Do you have favorite words, a literary hobby?