Of Hillbillies and Cherry Trees

My regular readers know that I am married to My Hillbilly who is the love of my life and the most wonderful man in the world. The Hillbilly likes to tell stories and is slowly taking over my blog. Here he is again:

My last post, which Cynthia named "The Hillbilly Knows No Fear", was actually the lead-in of what will probably be 3 or 4 posts (Cynthia's note: See what I mean?), and I should have had at least one of them done.  However, my week did not go as planned.  

You see, I have these two cherry trees in my back yard that I take care of. I trim them to make them pretty.  I fertilize, water, and care for them, but are they as considerate of me?  Not even close!  Do they have their cherries ripen when I have some time off to pick them? No!  So, instead of having a couple of days where I have 10 to 12 hours each day to harvest, I have only 3 hours or so per day.  And, it became apparent to both Cynthia and me, that I was in trouble. 

 After having harvested 18 gallons of cherries we couldn’t tell that I had yet begun.  Now, after picking about 45 gallons, eating a few gallons as I picked, which definitely has troubling effects, there are still probably 25 gallons in the tree.  

The following pictorial and comments are kind of a breakdown of my rushed week:

This is a picture of one of my trees after having picked the aforementioned 18 gallons of cherries.

Yes, for you who don’t know, this is a handful of cherries.  I don’t know exactly what kind they are.  I have heard them called Queen Annes, Royal Annes, Blondies, and Rainiers.  All I know is that they are the best and juiciest cherries I have ever eaten.  I give most of them away.  People practically fight over them.

Who is the old man on the 10’ ladder?  Oh, It’s me...I mean that young, nice looking man on that ladder!  Babe, do those jeans make my butt look big?  They are faded nicely, have a hole in one knee – hey, I be styling! Unless of course they make my butt look big.  Oh, and yes I am on the top of the ladder that plainly states "not a step."  My theory is that if they don’t want you to stand on it, then they shouldn’t put it there!
 

Cynthia's Note: It's okay; the life insurance is all paid up.

Yes, this is me on the (not a step), on my 6’ ladder on the second tree.

This picture of the beautiful bowl of cherries is one our friend sent to us thanking us for the cherries.  She basically said that she was admiring them prior to devouring them. 

Besides the joy of making a whole lot of people happy by giving them these cherries, (maybe these should be called happy trees), I now reap the reward of my labor.  

This is a picture of a beautiful cherry pie made by my beautiful wife.  

Wait!  Does that pie look nervous to you?  Yes, I saw a quiver of fear!  Instincts of ancient man are stirring in my soul.  Predatory instincts are coming to life!  Arghh, you cannot escape me little pie!  Rending, tearing, cherry juice dripping, gulp!  

Hey, gorgeous, best cherry pie ever!

 
From the Hillbilly’s Corner


 


What's your favorite summer fruit? Do you grow any of your own produce? Do you think I should increase the amount of The Hillbilly's life insurance policy?

Wicked English Teacher Wednesday--June 2012

Hello. Welcome to my monthly feature where I rage against those who would cruelly abuse the conventions of written English. Today, I will try to control my ranting and my hyperventilating because my sister Chris, who hates the Wicked English Teacher, "always root[s] for the underdog" and thinks it's "mean to point out the faults of the dummies." 

Poor misunderstood Wicked English Teacher.

 I don't point out faults to be mean, nor do I wish to make the "dummies" feel dumb. In fact, little sister, I think you're the one being mean! Your attitude toward the "dummies" seems to imply that they are incapable of learning, that they are indeed dumb! You seem to think that we can hope to gain nothing by pointing out their errors.

 I, on the other hand, believe them to be fully capable of learning as intelligent adult human beings! But how shall they learn if no one will teach them the error of their ignorant, grammar-abusing ways? You would leave them to wander in darkness while I try my best to shine the light of proper punctuation onto their wretched lives.

SO!! Which of us is mean now??

Ahem.

 Excuse me while I return to business as usual for Wicked English Teacher Wednesday and rant about the inaccuracies littering the world wide web, cluttering the minds of innocent readers with incorrect usage, improper spelling, and just plain old bad grammar.

Let's begin with spelling issues, specifically the problem with homophones. Homophones are words that sound the same but are spelled differently and have different meanings. In my eighth-grade classroom, this trouble might arise when a student doesn't know whether to write "no" or "know." In the adult world, this error should never arise in any situation. And yet...

Common Homophone Confusion

We all see these common problems often, and folks often share their peevishness about them with the Wicked English Teacher.

• there, they're, their
• your, you're
• whole, hole

The list of common errors goes on and on, but what about the less common errors. I'm sure some of these errors are proofreading errors. I also think part of the problem stems from not reading enough. When you hear a word but never read it, you will often spell what you think you heard.

Case in point: Just the other day, a very intelligent blogger wrote about how she "poured" over various websites in search of information. The correct verb, meaning to look at something very carefully for a long time, is "pored." She pored over the pages of the books, looking for the last vestiges of her self-esteem.

Now, I'm going to take long deep breaths while I tell you about this next example. A company that sells sailing excursions around the San Francisco Bay writes on their web site that the cruise "sails passed Pier 39." Of course none of my readers would make such an obvious error, but just in case this sailing company happens to be reading my blog, let's point out the incorrectly used word. 

• "Passed" is the past tense form of the verb "to pass." I passed my brother in the race.
• Past is the preposition that explains where the cruise goes in relation to Pier 39. We sail past Pier 39.

I hope the captain sails the boat better than the ad person writes the web site!

Other types of spelling errors

While these are not technically homophones, the errors do result from the sounds the writer is hearing and translating into writing.

I have seen this particular error multiple times: "Now uncover the pan, and Wa la! A fabulous dinner." 

Yes, seriously.

This gives me a headache.

"Wa la!" is not a word in any language of which I am aware; however, the French word "voilá" is used to call attention, to express satisfaction or approval, or to suggest an appearance as if by magic. (according to Merriam-Webster.com) 

There now. We have drawn attention to the error, shown how to correct it, and voilá! We will never see this mistake again.

Will we, class?

 One final exasperating error before we close and go to the cafeteria for lunch. I didn't write down the URL or even the context of this error, but it serves to point out the difference between hearing a word and reading a word when it comes to correctly spelling the word. Somewhere recently on the web, I saw the word pack used when the word pact was meant. These words aren't technically homophones, but they sound very much alike.

 It's obvious how such an error could occur, and this is why I stress the importance of getting your children to read as much as they possibly can. Not only do they increase their vocabularies, but they learn to correctly spell their existing vocabularies.

And that makes the Wicked English Teacher happy!


How about you? Have you seen any misspelled homophones around the web lately?  How about confusing similar sounding words that aren't really homophones, or foreign words spelled phonetically for English? Share! Share!


*No bloggers were actually injured in the production of this blog.

My Sister Hates Me.

 I have two sisters, both younger than me. I'm very glad that I didn't drown them in the bathtub when they were little. They were pretty pesky and usually ganged up on me (I'll tell you about that some day), but they've grown up to be my best friends.

The tall goofy looking one is me. The middle sister, Chris, hates me.

Well, Chris doesn't actually hate me; she just hates the Wicked English Teacher. When I wrote the first Wicked English Teacher post, she left this comment: AAAAARRRGG! I HATE this! You knew I would! The only thing I hate worse than bad spelleeng , grammmmer and the like iz people pointing it out in otherz!AAAARgggg! Where's my chocolate!?

Rather emotional, isn't she? In all fairness, Chris is reacting to a perceived personal trauma. You see, when she was a teenager, she had an older sister, an English major, who was living away from home. Chris would write letters to her older sister, whom she adored (as well she should). The older sister loved Chris very much and wanted her to be the very best she could be. As the eldest sister, she had always felt that it was her job to look after the younger two. Chris was a very smart but air-headed teenager who would have been happy wasting her entire life putting on make up and styling her hair. School was where she went to be with her friends, and it served no other purpose. 

The wonderful older sister saw all of Chris's potential being tossed aside, so she did what any loving sister would do. She undertook to educate Chris in spite of herself. Yes, my friends, this kind, loving, thoughtful older sister took time out of her busy busy college cramming schedule to take a red ink pen to Chris's letters and return them to her corrected. Of course, she also read and responded to Chris's letters with loving letters of her own. The older sister was perfectly reasonable.

Chris, however, with all the over-emotionalism of adolescence, took offense at these attempts to better her life, and to this day refuses to accept that her tender and caring sister was looking after her best interests. And that, dear readers, is why my sister hates me. Or the Wicked English Teacher. Or both of us.

See how well she turned out with her big sister's guidance?

So how do you and your siblings get along? Which ones would you like to kill? Which ones are you glad you didn't leave locked in the basement?

This post has been linked to the GRAND Social blogging event and at the Yeah Write Hangout!