Rain delay

The day started out beautiful as I walked into work this morning, but by the time I left it had started raining and it has not let up. If it was just a slight drizzle, it would be great for pulling out weeds, but it is a steady stream and knowing my luck I would wind up with a cold. The bright side is when I came home I found our crabapple beginning to bloom, so I cannot complain too
much about the rain. By the middle of July, I will be begging for it.

I am procrastinating working on the living room table, yet I will force myself to finish it tonight. But in the meantime, I was thinking of something today that I had talked about with my mother.

I love words.

I like to read the dictionary for fun and I have been this way since I was a child. Ironically, I am not the best speller. Maybe that is why I spend so much time looking in the dictionary. I even keep one on my bedside table so that I can assuage my curiosity at any time. I finally took the time to count how many dictionaries I have. I was surprised to see that I own six. Being a librarian, people would think our house is filled with books. Not so. That is why we have a public library, so that I don't have to keep them at my house! The less that makes it past the front door, the better.


But, I digress...


Unfortunately, I do find that I can be a word snob if I am not careful. I can be listening to a conversation and if I hear something that does not sound quite right, I will become fixated on it until I write it down so that I can get it out of my head. Poor Matt has had to take more than his fair share of my grammar attention. He is one of the few people I feel comfortable correcting. It's just like I am one of the few people that he can "accidentally" hit with various balls and it's funny because he "could not do it again if he tried." It is a fair exchange: I get hit in the head with a wet tennis ball, he is told that "anyways" is not a real word. My pain lasts a few minutes, his goes on as long as I can retain the power of speech. Ah, life at the Butterworth's.


But now I must get back to the task of cleaning up the living room table. I know I'll feel better when it is done, yet part of me just wants to toss everything in the recycle bin. I keep thinking of what some investigator would think if they had to process my house for clues; that I was an information junkie.

I watch way too many episodes of CSI and Law & Order: Criminal Intent.