Friday, July 25, 2008

What's the Good in Dabbling?

I'm a dabbler. There, I said it. Sometimes I become possessed with a burst of inspiration that causes me to undertake some sort of random hobby. But inevitably, an equal and opposite force will eventually come along that causes me to drop that hobby. Why? I have no idea.

Take my latest project: playing the guitar. In a recent discussion with my dear friend Deirdre who was joking that next I'll be recording myself and posting it to MySpace. I was thinking — sheesh no, I'd certainly never do something like that. It's not "me!" But then I thought: why the heck am I taking these lessons? I have no idea. I just have always wanted the ability to pick up a guitar and play. When? No clue. What type of music? I'm not really sure. Why now, exactly? Beats me.

How will this be similar to my pursuit of tennis? Well honestly if it goes that way, I'll be thrilled. After a couple of years of lessons, I emerged a darn good tennis player, with the knowledge that I'll be able to play that social sport well into old-age, plus, that's where I met Gary. Yep, I got a husband out of it!

Who knows what wonderful, unanticipated gift I'll take from my guitar lessons? And that, I am pretty sure, is why I'm doing this. It may not make sense to everyone, but in a weird way, it is similar to the way I was taught to pray. Not asking for a particular object, or even a specific outcome, but more that things would be resolved, or revealed in a good way that we could never have predicted. I often pray that circumstances will bring about things that are positive and allow for growth, healing and well, blessings of some sort for me and for those I care about.

Could it be that dabbling is like a prayer to receive an unexpected gift?

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Smart Fun with the OED

It gave me great pleasure, while reading the Hoefler & Frere-Jones blog, to stumble on a project that someone has undertaken re-writing every entry in the entire Oxford English Dictionary in Limerick Form. It made my whole day.

Here are some entries I particularly enjoyed. Say au revoir to your afternoons, friends...


A verse called an abecedarius
Begins every line with the various
Consecutive letters.
Demanding, these fetters
Encumber—it's rarely hilarious.

An abecedarius is difficult at best and easily lends itself to tortured rhymes and twisted meter. The idea is to begin each line with the next letter of the alphabet.


In the southwest of France, there it sits:
The exquisite resort Biarritz.
By the Bay of Biscay
Women languidly lay
In the sand, showing off their great tans.


Since ceftazidime cured my infection,
I've been putting my drugs to inspection.
Cymbalta? That's great!
Allegra? First rate!
Now to cure my dysfunctile erection...

(sef-TAZ-i-dime) is used to treat enterobacterial infections.


That which suddenly comes to an end,
Like a greeting too brief from a friend,
Or flat ground, at steep rises —
An end by surprise is