Give Him An Uintjie*and He'll Take a Miel

*It's pronounced AYN-chee, peeps.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, ticktockticktock... it's 50 minutes before the 2nd Annual Literacy London Adult Spelling Bee and I am feeling like I've lost my spelling mojo.  Clearly I need a drink.

***********

Here is Oh Beehave at last year's Spelling Bee, abuzz with our second place finish:

Click on the mispeled word in this sentence to read more about the 2013 event.

Here we are, looking good, as Bee-lated Victory this year:

Vito's hair hasn't changed much.  

Other comical team names included, but were not limited to, The Awkwords, The Punk-tuators, The Beelievers, The Pedantics, Illiterate Beeple and The Doobees (who smoked blunts the entire evening).

I had high hopes for this year until I read this morning's Freeps:  What?????  There's a ringer?  And he's flying in from California just to attend the event?  

Here's the ringer - Dave Riddle - posing with my friend Tamara (an awesome speller in her own right) and her son, Davyn:

Sidenote:  Tamara raised the most money of all the attendees.  YEAH, TAMARA!  She will have to pipe in with the dollar amount, but I want to say that it was around $1000.

Back to Riddle.  Oho!  Another funny sidenote which has just occurred to me.  Tamara's maiden name is Riddle!  So maybe she and Dave are related and Davyn is their progeny?  Wait a minute, if they were related that would make Davyn the product of incest... whoa.  Stopping this line of thought NOW.  And laughing.  Anyhoo, back to the Riddler. 

I made the mistake of googling said ringer and found out all sorts of fascinating and discouraging tidbits.  Consider this statement of Riddle's: “spelling is kind of a hobby of mine." (he has studied up to twenty hours a week to prepare for a bee).  And then I read this:

"(it's) a “hobby,” apparently, in the same way Sidney Crosby dabbles at hockey — during a national championship in New York four years ago, Riddle won by spelling uintjie, an edible plant. 

Riddle found the London event online and flew in specifically for it: a diversion, he said, after a tough year of training for a speed-climb to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro. (He and a guide reached the summit in 16 hours)."

Seriously?  I hate this dude.  :-)

I stalked him at the event, snapping a photo of him (the one above) and picking his brain.  He divulged that he was concerned about the variances in spellings between Canada and the U.S.  Grinning, I said, "you mean like wood and would?"  That gave him pause.  He didn't even crack a smile.  Then I said, "like color and colour?".  Again, no smile.  Dude was tough.

Riddle told me that he had spent the afternoon at a local bookstore reading the dictionary.  I asked him which dictionary he read (interesting topic to me).  He said, "Oxford".  A discussion about Oxford online and dictionaries in general ensued.  I had to leave in the middle of it for more wine.  :-)

While I kept my imbibing to a minimum so as to avoid stupid spelling errors, I did manage to slug back two glasses of wine and a beer.  Perhaps because of this, I found this year's words to be fairly easy to spell.  Keep in mind that what you read here are the spellings that my team submitted.  The asterisks in the first picture were added by me to note that I thought that we had misspelled these words.  I was right.  "Inoculate" has only one N, and the last word (pronounced "lad-oh-shun") is still a mystery to me.  I can't even find it in the dictionary or online.  If anyone knows this enigmatic word, please send me a message.

"Daquiri" is also spelled incorrectly.  The correct spelling is "daiquiri", which still looks completely wrong to me.  We scored 12 out of 15 and tied with three other teams for third place.  The second place team got 13 out of 15 words and the first place spelled 14 correctly (the Riddler's team, natch).

While the words this year were easier to spell, the organizers had some new (hard) games to test our wits.  I was sad to learn that the Boggle game was canceled, as was the homonym challenge (ate, eight; vein, vane; slew, slough etc).  And what did they have in store for us?  TRIVIA.  Yikes.  I am not a trivia aficionado (see how I snuck that spelling word in there? :-)  Some of the questions stumped us (2 and 3 for sure.  And a bunch of other questions that I didn't bother writing down, one of which had to do with the beer on the Simpsons, and the film Dead Poet's Society):

1. How many colours are in the Google logo?
2. What is the periodic symbol for Mercury?
3. What is the correct word for a group of ravens?  (i.e. murder of crows)
4. What group of vegetables does broccoli belong to?
5. How many points does the Maple Leaf have?

Bee-lated Victory did not fare well in the trivia component.  I will post the answers below.

Here's a copy of the evening's program:

Let's talk food for a minute.  Remember last year, how I went on and on about the delicious dinner?  How tasty it was, how plentiful, how the packaging was so cute?  Here are a couple of pictures of this year's food:

No cute package.  A tiny paper plate.  Serve yourself.  Cheese, crudités, mini croissants and fruit (not pictured).  It was healthy, but I was dreaming of fried chicken.  

Here are some more pictures of the evening's highlights:

Bee-lateds poster children

The Esteemed Judges:  Murray Faulkner (former police chief), Becky Howse (Principal of Adult, Alternative and Continuing Education at the TVDSB), and Brad Duncan (Chief of Police - laughing at motto:  Deeds not Words).  

Getting my glamour on with the lovely Rita DeBook:

The Bee Game.  Last year, my word was Sasquatch:  

I went with "larvae" this year, because who doesn't love them some larvae?

Kevin Moore, one of my ex-colleagues at the London Public Library, was the evening's emcee.  Here's Queen Christine and worker bee, Kevin:

I can't wait for next year's event.  I wonder if the Riddler will show.  I wonder if I should start reading the dictionary ;-)  I think I'll just stick to Scrabble.

And so, I won't drone on, beelieve me, no one likes that.  Hah!  I'm full of beeswax.  

Pollen your leg, I can't stop.  Eeeeeyuwwww. That's a stinger.  

Leaving you with the trivia answers and a bee-yootiful tune:  Just Like Honey by the Jesus and Mary Chain.

1. 4
2. Hg
3. an unkindness (I love that!)
4. crucifers
5. 11

The Poet Tree

It's UP!

Yes, I am posing by an empty frame, attached to a tree.  Said frame was my $90 birthday gift to my 45 year old self.  

Side note:  how in the fuck can I be 45?  

It was constructed by Gord Harrison, woodshopman extraordinaire, purveyor of little lending libraries and swap boxes.

Let me provide you with some context.  In 2000, I was working as a Public  Librarian.  I wanted to share my love of poetry with library patrons - big and small - so I set up a rotating poetry exhibit at the circulation desk.  It sounds much grander than it actually was - the "exhibit" was a freestanding eight-and-a-half by eleven plexiglass display board.

The inaugural poem was November by Thomas Hood:

November 

No sun - no moon! 
No morn - no noon - 
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day. 
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, 
No comfortable feel in any member - 
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, 
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! - 
November! 

I changed up the poems bi-weekly; the weather, holidays and current events dictated my choices.  Many patrons commented on the poems; they LOVED the poetry display.  It wasn't highbrow - there was no T.S. Eliot, people.  I deliberately chose accessible poems that would amuse and delight, and put a spring in one's step.  The library folk couldn't get enough... the poetry was better than SEX or CHOCOLATE or SQUEEZING A REALLY BIG ZIT.  Okay, it wasn't actually better than any of those things, but you get the picture.

I gave birth to my son in 2003 and my full-time stint at the library came to a screeching halt.  The poetry died.  A collective sigh was heard in the vicinity of Byron.

At this time, I was residing in the Blackfriars neighbourhood and that's when I had the idea of mounting a poetry frame on the Maple tree in my front yard.

I would bring poetry to the people through the magical Poet Tree.  And the world would smile upon the Poet Tree and it would be a better place.  And rainbows and unicorns and lollipops would fall from heaven, and poetry would rain down into the people's brains...  

But.

I had a hungry beast attached to my nipple for the better part of the next two years, and then I became pregnant again, and then I forgot about poetry because I was completely fucking insane from my parasites / children.

Jump ahead eleven years to 2014.

The idea of the Poet Tree was still percolating.  It was time.  The city of London was poised for the power of poetry.  The denizens of the Willage needed poetry; I would bring it to them  :-)

The first poem to grace the Poet Tree was Headache by Shel Silverstein:

Remembrance Day was three days later, so naturally, I put up In Flanders Field.  My third (and last, unbeknownst to me at the time) was Spike Milligan's A Silly Poem.  

One week and 6 days after the frame had been installed, I was pulling into my driveway when I saw that the poetry box was empty.  I was perplexed.  Had someone stolen the poetry?  I can understand them stealing my scooter, but my poetry???

I found the poem jammed into my mailbox with a card and some chickenscratch scrawled across it.

I called Andy Beaton (Supervisor II - Forestry) and learned that a neighbour had complained.  I also learned that the City of London's Boulevard Tree Protection By-law (section 3.5) stipulates that "no person shall attach any object or thing to a tree upon a boulevard without written permission from the General Manager".  

The poet tree was being axed!

I called the paper and the Freeps came out the same day to do a story.  Here I am, making my best "mad face" at the urging of the newspaperman:

The poet tree and I made the front page!  And I'm currently the banner photo at LFP.com with 132 comments:  Poet Tree Stands Empty.  I guess this is my 15 minutes.

I don't know what else to say about the idiocy of some individuals.  The tree will not die from the two screws that affix the frame to the tree.  I have planted more than half a million trees in my time (treeplanter in Northern ON and BC for five years) and I know the tree can withstand the frame.  My neighbour sums it up nicely:

I think the sadder part of this story is the neighbour who reported the poet-tree. He must be a very angry and pathetic individual - a far greater threat to society and the earth itself than a couple of screw holes in a tree. Most of us have much better and more progressive things to do with our days: like loving poetry and sharing it with any old passer-by! What a way to cheer up a winter dog walk or a hurried school-run!

It seems that while I have a lot of support for the tree, there are also many individuals who do not approve.  A few of my favourite choice remarks:

Poetry should be banned in London - along with self-promoting librarians.
My rebuttal:  Yes, I am promoting literacy and culture. So shoot me.

Ohh the drama! A neighbour who doesn't like me called the city, now the big bad forestry supervisor wants me to take my poetry box down, ruining it for everyone! Why should I have to follow the rules! Whaaa! Put an easel on your lawn with the box attached to it!
This just makes me laugh.

The tree is not yours Christine. It belongs to the commons. You damaged it. It's untenable. Does not give me joy to see trees damaged, but angers me. Stand out there and recite the poetry if you're so enthusiastic about sharing your joy.
I am picturing myself standing on the sidewalk with a bullhorn.


So the Poet Tree frame must come down next week, midweek, or Andy Beaton will come and remove it himself.  Bah.

And last night someone opened the box and scrawled the word "DOUCHES" across A Silly Poem.  I wasn't impressed.

Our solution (thanks to Miss Guinevere for the illustrations):

We will continue to spread literary love here on Bruce Street.  The word on the street :-) is that the box is here to stay.  It might not be attached to the tree in the future, but it will still be the Poet Tree.

The Battle Of Life

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

                                                                                                        Theodore Roosevelt

Addendum

Part Two of the story:  Poet Tree, Part Two

ONOMATO-WHAT?I

I went to avenge my 7th grade loss to Cheryl Miller.  Cheryl was a doughy brunette who wore too much makeup and she had perfect feathered hair.  Not jealous.  I can't remember the word that did me in; however, I do remember Cheryl's smug smile when I was eliminated.  Evil Admission forthcoming:  Whap! I wanted to slap that smile off her face.

Cheryl, I apologize.  You deserved to win.

Last night, I attended the 1st Annual Literacy London Adult Spelling Bee. The event was a fundraiser for Literacy London's programs and services.  I'm a writer and a librarian; I am a staunch supporter of anything that improves literacy.  To be literate is to live.  I was thrilled to support the cause in such a FUN way.

Here's Oh Bee-have - my team of competitive wordsmiths

Can I just say right now that last night was pretty much my dream night?  Let me tell you the reasons why:


SHOPPING!

Who doesn't love to shop and drink wine at the same time?  And support a great cause?

I bought this giant vintage skate by London artist, Andrew Gillet, because it is awesome.   It also reminds me of my own vintage, six dollar ice skates that I purchased many years ago from (my favourite store) The Goodwill:

This is how I feel when I wear these skates:

image from vintagewinter.com

When I brought my skates into the hockey shop to get them sharpened for the first time (they looked like they had never been worn), all the jocks in the shop had to congregate and ooh and ahh and handle them.  I'm not kidding.  The sportsdudes were in awe of my pristine, leather Playmakers.  It almost seemed like a shame to sharpen them.  They are not nearly as pretty as they were when I bought them twenty years ago, but then again, neither am I. :-) 

I also purchased six London Lightning tickets in the Silent Auction.  The game is on the fifteenth, which just happens to be my birthday.  HB to me!  

Last year, I arranged for the Lightning to visit my children's school.  The two fellows that represented the team were magnificent ambassadors and the students LOVED them.  They talked the talk, walked the walk and they could SLAMDUNK like nobody!  My kids play basketball twice a week and so I am super happy to be able to take them to see a game.  

Last shopping anecdote, I promise.  I even squeezed in a shop at The Goodwill before going to the spelling bee.  The bee was held on the 3rd floor of the Goodwill Centre building at 255 Horton Street.  Hours before, the kids, my husband and I had been shopping for indoor soccer shoes.  As I am far too cheap / parsimonious / stingy thrifty to spend upwards of fifty dollars on a pair of athletic shoes that the children will outgrow in a week, I stomped out of the sports store after purchasing nothing. 

But Mummmmmm, I like the pink ones! I want the pink ones!  

Me:  The pink ones are $69!

I want the pink ones!  

Me:  You're not getting the pink ones.

You're mean! You never buy me anything. blah blah blah blah blah 

Me (thinking, not saying, people):  I'll show you mean, you little bee-yotch...

Hours later, as the family dropped me off at the event, RB said:  "make sure you look for indoor soccer shoes for the kids."  Still stinging from the shopping expedition, I said:  "The Goodwill will not have a pair of men's size seven-and-a-half indoor soccer shoes there!"  But because I am a dutiful wife, I checked out the shoes and wouldn't you know, the ONLY PAIR of indoor soccer shoes on the rack...  I don't even have to say it, people.  You KNOW!  I was sooooo happy.  They look brand new and cost only $10!  SWEET!!!!!  And they're by AllDayIDreamAboutSex (Adidas for those of you who are too young to remember that acronym, or were out of it in the mid-seventies).  

So I still have to get a pair for G, but N is done.

Okay, focus Christine, back to the Spelling Bee!

EATING AND DRINKING!

The dinner, by Local Food Skills (a London program that gives people the opportunity to "gain real skills and work with real food in a state of the art commercial kitchen") was designed to look like a kid's lunchbox, but the food inside was definitely for a mature palate:

I am a total foodie and this dinner was FABULOUS.

The spicy fried chicken was the best I've ever had, and the pumpkin soup was also the best that I've ever had (mainly because of the addition of the crunchy roasted pumpkin seeds which were the most delicious contrast to the rich, creamy soup).  The purple slaw was also the best slaw that I have ever had and I am a coleslaw snob.  Don't even get me started on coleslaw.  I could write an entire blog entry about it.  The potato salad was NOT the best that I have ever had; however, it was delicious.  I liked the green bits (celery and dill? and it was not loaded in fatty sour cream and/or dreaded Miracle Whip dressing).  Our dessert was a chocolate pudding. I do not eat pudding but I made an exception because there was whipped cream and chocolate shaved on top.  It was divine.  

Kudos also to the food people for using a recyclable lunchbox and containers (all paper) and bamboo cutlery.  The bamboo gave me a bit of a nails on chalkboard reaction initially, but I got over it.  

It was SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD

SPELLING and WORD GAMES; WINNING PRIZES!

I'm not going to lie.  The spelling was HARD!  Really hard!  There were 12 -15 five person teams with funny names:  Antidisestablishmentarianism, Oh Beehave, The Queen Bees, The Bee Gees, The Bookworms et cetera.  We all competed at the same time.  The moderator, Kevin - a fellow librarian - would say the word, provide a definition and then use it in a sentence.   Here's Kevin, posing with Austin:

We all had a minute to write down how we thought the word should be spelled and then as a team, we had to decide on the correct spelling based on everyone's answers.  The captain wrote down the final spelling and a runner took it up to the panel of judges:  Murray Faulkner (ex-chief of police), Gary Ennett with CBC Radio, and Becky Howse from Adult, Alternative and Continuing Education at TVDSB. 

The first word of the evening was a trick, as it has three correct spellings: maneuver.  I am not going to give you all three; google it up if you're curious.

Here is the list of all the other words we had to spell (I'm pretty sure that I spelled them properly here):  dieffenbachia, peccadillo, isosceles, connoisseur, sarsaparilla, deliquesce, kohlrabi, ceilidh, schottische, carrageenan, alstroemeria, onomatopoeia and quinzhee.  Because I am obnoxious, let me tell you that peccadillo, isosceles, kohlrabi, carrageenan and onomatopoeia were dead-easy pour moi.  I know, you hate me.  

Our team came in second place!!!!!!!!  We were very happy getting 8 of the 15 words; the winners got 9 correct.  We lost to the Bookworms, whose captain, an old colleague of mine - Beth - is a retired librarian.  Earlier in the evening, she told the room that she was the world spelling bee champion in Grade 3!  Come on!!!!!

We played another game in which we had to come up with the longest list of homonyms (fair / fare, here /hear).  Our team came in first and we each won twenty downtown bucks!

The last game we played was Boggle.  We thought we won again with 21 words in a minute, but we are convinced that the judges gave it to another team, who also got 21, because we won the first game.  we weren't competitive at all...

The final event of the evening was the Canadianisms elimination draw.  Thirty words, 10 bucks each, last one standing won a weekend in NOTL.

I purchased Sasquatch and was one of five people remaining, when I was eliminated.  I roared like a Sasquatch when they pulled my "name" out of the bag.  

GOOFY ATTIRE!

In short, the evening was SUPERLATIVE; I was spellbound.  I will be studying the dictionary so that we can win next year's event.  Look out, Beth.



Soundtrack:  L-O-V-E by Nat King Cole!

Here are some links to organizations that I mentioned above:


Literacy London

Local Food Skills