Let’s ride that trail again…

This semester, I’ve had a light enough schedule that it allows me the luxury of actually having some free time on the weekends. It’s never completely free, but it is much better than last semester, for example, when it was the rare weekend that I didn’t have to grade a distressingly thick stack of papers every single weekend (thus the 5 months of dead air on this blog!) I do certainly take advantage of this free time. After planning lessons, I’ve had a chance to take some photos, go to dinner, and even take a bike ride.

I also spent a little while wandering around the internet, seeing what’s out there  – other than the usual suspects – and looking for a few interesting tidbits for another edition of Redux. Continue reading


While it may seem so, given last week’s choice of panopticon, I’m not overly attracted to words that begin with the letter P. I do, however, have a different confession to make about this Friday’s Word of the Week: it’s not a new word. It’s been a hectic couple of weeks, and though I did finish reading The Human Comedy(William Saroyan), which is a wonderful book, it didn’t yield any interesting new words. As a result, I’m falling back on a favorite word of mine: palimpsest. I actually learned the word in 10th grade English class, which was, as the saying goes, many many moons ago. At the time, I thought it was just a funny word and so it stuck. It is sort of awkward, with its sudden switch from /p/ to /s/ that makes it feel like a hiccup, and it’s not a particularly handy word that you’d need every day. But I like it, and after 25 years, I finally started to wonder why. (No, as a matter of fact, I’m not particularly quick on the uptake, thankyouverymuch.) Continue reading

Word of the Week: Panopticon

I will begin with my foible.

The book I’ve got my nose in these days is The Human Comedy by William Saroyan. I didn’t really expect to find a lot of unfamiliar words, so I thought my word of the week would probably come from some other source. Then, on page 15, I saw this sentence:

“Homer’s music fled before the hurrying clatter of three indredible objects moving across the sky.”

Indredible? At first I thought it was simply a typo and should have been incredible, which made perfect sense in the context. But it seemed familiar, like I should know what it was but couldn’t quite remember. I thought it might be a new word after all, or rather, a word that I had as a shaky entry in my passive vocabulary, but which was trying to make it into active duty. Continue reading