For those who follow my postings, you know I appreciate cows. Today is their day. Yup, July 13 is National Cow Appreciation Day.
To celebrate the cow here are a few facts:
DID YOU KNOW?
Bonus! Here are some cow jokes:
A field with cows.
“Aaugh, I’m having a herd attack!”
“Cows should be seen and not herd.”
* How did the farmer divide up his herd of cows?
He decided between the calves and the calve-nots.
* What did the farmer say to the old cow?
“It’s time you retired. You’re pasture your prime.”
So today when you reach for that glass of milk or spoon up your yogurt or nibble a cheese slice or revel into your ice cream confectionery, salute the cow. The world would not be the same without this udderly marvelous animal.
When the Julius Caesar unit rolls around in sophomore English I ask what students know about the famous (or infamous) Roman. Their lack of knowledge is deplorable. Most think answering “salad creator” is going to win them points. It doesn’t. They are surprised, and some students think I’m joking when I trot out the fact the month of July is named or rather renamed for Julius Caesar.
Originally July was known as Quintilis, which was Caesar’s birth month. Quintilis means “fifth month” in Latin and in the Roman calendar that is where this month found.
Caesar was a man of action. Gaul is one example. When he wasn’t conquering countries and people he set about improving Roman life. The calendar is an example. It did need attention. The early Roman calendar had a glitch. Once every two years a month lasting 27 or 28 days would be added after February 23 to help even out accrued time. Caesar straightened this out and today’s calendar is pretty much the one he formalized 2000 years ago.
Whether July was renamed as a tribute to his leadership or as a nod to inventing the calendar requires further Googling.
Happy July. Stay cool. Watch out for stray sparkler flickers. Hydrate and wear sunscreen.
August—I barely got to know July. August is the wind down month of summer. July is mostly vacationing and relaxing and reading and visiting–lots of ongoing “ing” things in July.
August whispers “school” a little bit louder as each calendar day flips by. I like school, teaching, my students–I just like summer vacation to last a bit longer.
This month’s words represent an assortment of ideas related to the last month of summer.
ken: knowledge, understanding, or cognizance; mental perceptions (I have a ken that school is starting sooner than later at this point of summer).
tub-thump: to promote something or express opinions vociferously (There are those who tub-thump whether school should start in August or in September).
velitation: a minor dispute or contest (See above concerning school start times).
grok: to understand thoroughly and intuitively (This is from Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein–I grok that summer is special due to its ephemeral nature).
ferly: something unusual, strange, or causing wonder or terror (The August fair usually has a ferly–like those weird vegetables that show up in displays–you know, the zucchini that resembles Richard Nixon or the monstrously large rabbit in the 4H competition).
mump: to mumble; mutter (I’m trying not to mump about summer dissipating).
brontide: a rumbling noise heard occasionally in some parts of the world, probably caused by seismic activity (A brontide was reported last August on the 31 as families stampeded Walmart to purchase school supplies before started after Labor Day).
makebate: a person who causes contention or discord (Who wants to be the makebate who meets people in the store and says, “Only 9 days until our first staff meeting).
calescent: growing warm; increasing in heat (The first week of school usually produces calescent classrooms due to the school not bothering to install air conditioning because heat exhaustion helps retain information. At least that’s what the theory must have been when they built the school).
littoral: or or relating to the shore of a lake, sea, or ocean (This is not to be confused with “literally,” as in “I will literally be littoral, grabbing last minute beach time before school starts).
prima facie: plain or clear; self-evident; obvious (Yes, my denial of the inevitability of school starting soon smacks of prima facie realization).
ineluctable: incapable of being evaded; inescapable (The ineluctable red calender circles indicate the end of summer and the start of staff meetings).
fillip: anything that tends to rouse, excite, or revive; a stimulus (Labor Day weekend is definitely a fillip, in terms of celebrating one last weekend without grading essays).
rutilant: glowing or glittering with ruddy or golden light (those rutilant summer evenings after the last rays of the sun radiates through the trees–*sigh*).
totsiens: until we meet again; goodbye (See ya, summer–totsiens, for now).
And what summer-flavored word might have been your favorite? Pick two or three…
Among the summer events I look forward to, the street fairs, arts and craft shows, farmers markets and church picnics, are the concerts, the wee bit of culture our small town enjoys. And more than the concerts on my fave list is the annual Shakespeare in the Park.
As a proclaimed Bardinator, being able to watch a Shakespeare play is a treat. The bonus with this production is that it is outdoors, professionally performed, creatively produced, and free. All I need to provide is my camp chair.
This year’s production was Henry IV. I’m not too keen on the historical monarchy plays for the reason the names are difficult to keep track of, plus someone is always trying to bump off someone to get to the throne.
But it’s Shakespeare. I will muddle through and bring up my handy on-line Folger script to keep track. Shmoop helps a bit with its character and summary notes.
We arrived an hour early to peg out our spots and were intrigued to catch the last part of the belly dancer routine. Were there belly dancers during the Renaissance?
Didn’t matter, it was fairly entertaining. Hopes of getting some dinner at a food booth were dashed–no refreshments available. None. I noticed people had brought those rolling ice chests and picnic baskets. They’ve done this before.
The venue used to be across the street from our house, which made popping home for a quick snack quite handy.
The production has grown so much in popularity it has shifted to the town football stadium. Someone could have made some decent bucks opening up the concession stand. A play that starts at 6 pm should have some kind of food choices available. Just saying.
This year’s production was set during WWI and it was a dandy. Falstaff and Hal played off each well, and the comedy bits had enough slapstick to get even the kids laughing.
And that’s the best part of outdoor theatre–the cross section of audience. Everyone attends: Singles, couples, large families with wiggly toddlers, AARPers in wheelchairs, empty nesters, even a few teens.
We all laugh in the right places, cheer accordingly, and listen attentively during the serious bits.
This year I had to plead with the hubs to accompany me. He’s not much of a Henry fan either, but he knows I do enjoy Shakespeare and he does like hanging out with me. Win-win–mostly.
We lasted right up to where Hal, as mock king, tells Falstaff that he will disown him when the time comes. After that it got serious. Battles are dreary bits to watch, even Shakespeare battle. I would have stayed but the hubs handed me my casted-off sandals. I took the hint and we snuck off field.
Dinner seemed to be on the agenda.
Summer is its own special time, especially July. It’s solidly summer: weather is warmish but not too uncomfortable, events are happening–outdoor concerts, craft fairs, and the like, the lake is tolerable not freezing, school is distant past and not a threat on the horizon.
July requires its own set of vocabulary:
serotinal:pertaining to or occurring in late summer (must be related to serotonin–that feel good chemical in our brain).
phub: to ignore (a person or one’s surroundings) when in a social situation by busying oneself with a phone or other mobile device (I admit to phubbing when at the park or beach–tuning out people to cocoon in my little bubble of perceived solitude–is this a bad thing though?).
tzimmes: fuss; uproar; hullabaloo (when temps get too warm crankiness arrives and tzimmes is a fitting word).
ergophobia:an abnormal fear of work; an aversion to work (self explanatory).
benighted: intellectually or morally ignorant; unenlightened (unfortunately, there is evidence of this behavior when out and about during summer, especially seen at the beach–oh my–do my students who are life guards have interesting days).
paseo: slow, leisurely walk or stroll (summer evenings when the temp drops a tad and the sun has just disappeared on the horizon, a paseo along the boardwalk after dinner is a lovely way to start/end the evening).
craic: fun and entertainment, especially good conversation and company (often precededby the–English derived, as in “wisecrack”).
solitudinarian: a person who seeks solitude; recluse (me, that’s me–give me a hammock, a book, and a soft breeze and I’ll be a-phubbing for hours).
deracinate: to remove or destroy utterly; extirpate (related to above as in socializing?)
ariose: songlike (“The ariose breeze filtering through the stand of pines added an extra appreciation of the fine quality of this July day.”)
biophilia: a love of life and the living world; the affinity of human beings for other life form (but not when they are benighted or phubbing).
sabulous: sandy or gritty (beach wear side effect)
cynosure: something that strongly attracts attention by its brilliance, interest, etc. (blue lake, hot day)
pasquinade: a satire or lampoon, especially one posted in a public place (like Taming of the Shrew as a performance in the park–good times having Shakespeare as a summer performance).
joyance: joyous feeling; gladness (that overall summer mood)
hygge: adj.--cozy and comforting; noun–the feeling of cozy and comforting (some may associate this with winter, but being snug in a backyard hammock with a cool breeze playing about is indeed cozy and comforting).
petrichor: a distinctive scent produced by rainfall in dry earth (there is a word for that amazing smell right after the rain hits the hot sidewalk–word nerdiness points!)
Heiligenschein: the ring of light around the shadow cast by a person’s head, especially on a dewy sunlit lawn; halo (you know that photo, the one where you notice that strange glow around the person’s head -“whoa, I didn’t know you were an angel! Look at your halo!)
viator: wayfarer or traveler (got my bags packed and my ticket to go)
vade meecum: something a person carries about for frequent or regular use (a book, of course–summer is prime reading time).
So that’s a batch of summertime words. There are some fabulous ones that I’m determined to slip into casual conversation.
“I see you got your vade meecum ready.
“Wow! Smell that petrichor!”
“Yup, me and the hubs got our bags packed–we’re just a couple of viators ready to hit the road.”
“Nothing like a well-done pasquinade to get a person laughing.”
“These summer concerts have a certain cynosure about them, don’t they?”
What two words are you going to work into a conversation?
Out of necessity I am in Arizona this week.
Most times mentioning Arizona as a destination brings up that “Oh–” that is a followed by congratulatory commentary with a dash of envy.
That “Oh–” takes on tones of surprise, commiseration, and even pity when Arizona is mentioned as a travel stop this time of year.
The last three days have been rising to triple digits. Today is expected to be 114 degrees. I should add an exclamation point. Make that two.
People who live in Arizona must be okay with this cruelty. Why would someone purposefully punish themselves unless by choice? There are sooo many other places to live.
These are the reasons I hear from residents as they try to excuse the heat:
“Air conditioning. You go from the car to the store. It’s not bad.” That’s what they said about my root canal. “The pain and discomfort is minimal.” Pain is pain and the shock of heat blasting off the asphalt parking lot even for the two minutes of the dash from car to store is still excruciating.
“It cools down at night.” Umm, 80 degrees at 1 am is not cool. It’s not even pleasant.
“Hang out at the pool.” Great idea in theory; however, the sun has been heating up that water until it becomes lukewarm. Not remotely refreshing is the time spent floating in tepid waters.
And the weather announcer pull-it-out-every-time excuse: “But it’s a dry heat.” Dry it is. Because heat is hot and hot is not comfortable.
I’m sure Arizona is lovely other parts of the year. Flocks of snowbirds descending and settling down in the desert for winter have proven this to be statement of fact. Unfortunately I care not for the desert. It is not my idea of a dessert vacation.