Q is for Quintessential

Is there a certain word which, whenever you hear it, reminds you of a certain person? The word "intimation" (not intimidation, but intimation--"a hinting at"-- reminds me of a nun who taught Chaucer. She used that word a lot, while a pool of spittle foamed at the left corner of her mouth in excitement over what she was teaching. Who knew the Canterbury Tales could elicit such salivary surplus? When it came to teaching the tale of the Wife of Bath, look out below. When Sister couldn't contain her enthusiasm (or jaw juice) anymore, she'd lick and slurp simultaneously. Picture a carpet cleaning machine. This teacher's foamy spittle bubbled out slowly while she spoke in long, choppy sentences that read like the Amplified Bible, punctuated by the phrase, "What-hmmm?" For example, "Chaucer was intimating, what-hmm?" "that, that, that this wife had a reputation for, was known as, had an affinity for--because of the space between her front teeth--what, hmmm, a sordid habit as it were?" (And I pictured this nun teaching in sordid habit, which was equal parts comical and disgusting.)

The word "quintessential" is another such trigger word but for a polar reason. It reminds me of my delightful friend, Sandy S, who had no drool issues. I still remember the day the whole conversation over "quintessential" came up. We were sitting in the bleachers at a lacrosse game watching our FCA high school sons. The other team was killing us, and we parents were far from the field. Sandy and I kind of tuned out of the game in favor of gabbing.

Sandy has a joie de vivre that shines through her bright smile, and she is an absolute joy to be around. Energetic and athletic, talented and outgoing, she accomplishes more in a day than I accomplish in a week--and so I remarked, "Aren't you are the quintessential wife and mom!"

She said, "That sounds like a compliment, but could you please tell me what that Q word means?"

I said, "Oh, come on, you know. And I know you're the quintessential wife and mom!"

"Well, I have an idea about the word. Quints are five kids at once, but I only have two, and being a mom is essential. Other than that, help me out, Zo!"

I asked her if she wanted to hear the quick definition, or the teacher's manual version. I had just recently discovered the origin of "quintessential" while teaching an SAT vocab-prep lesson. Sandy said, "Well, considering we're only in the third quarter of the game, give me the TM version!

"Okay then. You are right that "quint" means five. In Medieval times, people believed there were four essences: air, water, fire, and earth. The fifth essence--or quinta essentia-- was the perfect embodiment of all four heavenly elements. That's you."

"No way!"

"Yes way! Aristotle said the fifth essence was ether, since it was believed there was a trace of ether in everything. It permeates all other elements. What other moms today have read their Bibles before sun-up, run ten miles at dawn, come home and made strawberry smoothies with cheese frittatas, homeschooled a high schooler and a middler, put dinner in the crock pot, cut up 20 fresh oranges for the whole lacrosse team, helped her husband with some landscaping, and is here now perky as a spring daffodil for a 3 o'clock game on the north side of the Baltimore beltway? Most of us were proud that we took a shower, got through math before lunch, and found matching socks. As for dinner, the plan is either Burger King or McDonald's."

"Hey, I just had a lot to do today! That's all. And if I don't run, I'm a hyper mess!"

She and I still tease each other on Facebook. I told her I hope she has a quintessential birthday at the lake. She told me to have a quintessential date night. I asked her, "At Burger King or McDonald's?"

She replied, "Ether!"

Pause

What do think when you hear this word?

Clarifying, Smoothing Over, or Digging a Deeper Hole?

Unlike graded college essays in which I intentionally stated a thesis and then reread the entire paper to make sure that every paragraph supported that thesis cohesively, my blog posts often run willy-nilly through woods and streams of consciousness like the meandering of a brook in summer.

Such was the case with my most recent post, I do believe. My intent was to say this:

To list a fact such as "We cloth diaper" on one's blog profile comes across as petty and potentially divisive to the casual first-time reader who is both a mother and a guilt-prone woman (which may be redundant). That reader was me (or, to be grammatically correct, "That reader was I").

My intent was not to make a case against cloth diapering. (Cloth diapering has indeed come a long way, baby. I'll grant you that.) My point was that this blogger's three-word fact, though probably intended to draw in mothers of the same ilk--or should I say "cut from the same cloth"?-- managed to drive me to ponder the power of words.

From three little words came a plethora of memories--the worst being of heavy guilt (heavier than wet, poopy, bleachy diapers) from soiling the universe to failing to keep a lid on my pungent temper.

The stream of consciousness did, however, lead to a few pleasant memories.

1) thankfulness for that baby boy who was born on the first day of spring 22 years ago, thus ushering in more blessing and guilt than I was capable of imagining
2) all the times I heard "what a happy baby!" and I believed it was 50% because I changed his diaper so faithfully and cared for his every need (ahem!) and 50% because I was always smiling at him, which is where he learned his social networking skills early on (ahem again!)
3) my sensitive husband who can stretch a buck farther than any man I know, but who took my mental health into the cost analysis (or was it his mental health?) when he blessed me with the liberty to switch to disposable diapers (as opposed to heaping more guilt on me).

In conclusion (oh, what a terrible way to conclude a paper!) I will say that the blog-profile statement has raised my awareness yet again, of how words, by their very nature, include and therefore also exclude, certain meanings. Therein lies the rub-a-dub-dub.

Mini Grammar Quiz on Repeating Adjectives

Which is correct in each pair of sentences?

1. She gave birth to a boy and girl.
2. She gave birth to a boy and a girl.

1. Please feed the chickens and the cows.
2. Please feed the chickens and cows.

1. I would like some ice cream and some sauerkraut.
2. I would like some ice cream and sauerkraut.


Anyone curious for the answers? I'll post soon, with explanation. (By the way, I just discovered the reason myself a couple of weeks ago.)

A Rhebok is...

a male antelope.

Who voted on that answer?

Dumbing it Down for Mom

Joel is just as into hot cars as Paul and I are, though Joel is a Ford Mustang kind of guy and we prefer imports. He's got such an affinity for them that when he saw a ride-on childsize Mustang in Wal-Mart, he came home and started putting price tags on everything he could find to sell. (Some of the things actually belonged to him.) He announced he was having a yard sale on August 10th. I had to talk him out of it. I think it worked.

But the yen for that Mustang, which costs $294, grows stronger by the day. We've had a talk with him about coveting, about the cost, and about the impracticality of having a car with only a steep driveway to ride it on (which he doesn't see as a drawback, but as offering greater momentum and hence a greater thrill).

So he was yammering on about it just before a nap yesterday. He asked me earnestly how many minutes of backscratching it would take to save up for the car.
"I really want a Mustang, Mom. You know, the replica--clone--of a Mustang in Walmart? Not a real one."

The way he changed the word "replica" to "clone" made me laugh. He had that look and tone that said, "You might not know that big word. I'll use a smaller one so you'll understand." It cracked me up.

I asked him, "Replica? Where'd you hear that word?"
"I don't know. I just did."
"Do you know what it means?" I asked. He looked timid. "You used it right, don't worry," I assured him.

"Yeah, it's something similar to the real thing, like a clone or a miniature."

Golly! He could even define it with two synonyms.

Later, coming home from Jerusalem Mill with him, I was in and out of conscious listening. (You know how moms pretend to listen, or half listen?) He was saying something about a friend named Betty who has a "thing you jump on, it has springs, what's it called?" when I snapped back into conscious listening.

"How big is it?" I asked. "Do you mean a trampoline?"
"No, it's for one person."
"A pogo stick?"
"Yeh, a pogo stick. And Betty was jumping on her pogo stick and she had to do one of those---" (pauses to think of the right word)--Mom, can I use you for a dictionary?"

Winners

For those who voted that "grilse" is an Atlantic salmon, congratulations! These salmon are the ones who are willing and eager to swim upstream for procreative reasons.

Holy Moly, We Have TWO Winners!

It was dumb of me to announce that I would put Balderdash Bubble winners' names in bold type, because...well...I don't know who voted how. I'm sure there's a way to match votes with IP info, but I don't know how.

Nonetheless, if your answer to the definition of "moly" was "a mythical herb with magical powers," then let us all know in the comment box. Go ahead and say so in BOLD LETTERS! Congratulations.

PS Before I spellchecked this post, I had accidentally typed "Bladerdash" instead of "Balderdash." Bladerdash is a super quick trip to the bathroom after drinking too much coffee. So quick, in fact, that one doesn't have time to write both "d's" for proper phonetic spelling.

New word coming soon.

Not in Your Vernacular?

This past weekend we had extended family come in for a beach wedding. Two days later some of them got to come here for a cookout at our house, and a bunch of us played Balderdash afterward. I love this game, where you are given a real but obscure (and sometimes hilarious-sounding) word that each player makes up a definition for, and try to write a definition that sounds realistic enough to get other players to vote for it.

Today I decided to add a Balderdash Bubble to my sidebar for all you readers and fellow wordsmiths. First I went to www.m-w.com which is Miriam Webster. Then I typed in a bunch of letters at random to see what came up. Sometimes nothing came up, but when something I typed ended up being a real word, I looked it up, and made its real definition one of four I put as possible answers. You get to play my game if you want.

Every other day or so I'll change the word. Please vote. Don't use any cheats, no phone-a-friends, mobile shout-outs, or dictionaries allowed. Winners will get their names posted in BOLD LETTERS. Sorry, I'm cheap, not sending any handmade soap or autographed toilet paper to anyone.

Funnie from Co-op (A Rerun)

Scrolling through old posts, I came across this one I thought a few of you would enjoy again (or for the first time). I was teaching art in a homeschool art class. My students were very young and quite adorable. I loved what came out of their mouths (most of the time). Here's a sample from last April:



Today I was teaching some more drawing lessons to my kindergarten, first-, and second-graders.

I started each class by asking what tips they remembered that I've taught them in previous classes.

"Don't hold it like this," one boy said, with the sharp point in his palm.

"That's right," I said.

"And don't get it near your eyes," said another boy.

"Oh, no, never," I agreed.

"And don't use the tips to poke someone else," said a third boy.

I was wondering why no one had said things like, "Relax your arm," "Use light strokes," or "Draw what you see, not what you think you see."

"Tips can be dangerous," he said, tapping his index finger on the sharp end of the pencil.

I burst out laughing. "Oh, you guys! That's funny. You thought I meant tips of pencils. I meant what suggestions have you learned from me?" (I almost said pointers, but that wouldn't have helped one bit straighten out the confusion!

Ah, precision in language. I sometimes forget how literal children can be in their thinking.

Bull or No Bull?

City slickers. That's all I could think of as I watched a news report on WJZ TV tonight. The reporter was throwing around a bunch of bovine terms he knew little to nothing about. He had the sad news to report of a Texas Longhorn "bull" being shot to death by a frightened Maryland state trooper today because it had threatened to kill the deputy in front of him.

True story. (Mind you , in my head a dying cow is singing, "I got shot by the sheriff, but I didn't get shot by the deputee-ee.")

So the reporter makes a few flubs in animal vocab. It's just terminology. But it's funny to me . You country folks will probably laugh, too, if you don't cry over the butchering of mixed genders in this piece.

Here's my paraphrase of his story. (See how many blunders in cow talk you can find. Never mind that Doe is a deer, but I used it in place of the real dude's name.)


Snow-laden trees toppled over on Mr. Farmer's property early this morning, taking out a line of fence. Some cows got out, three to be exact. They are Texas longhorns and both males and females have long horns. Maryland Deputy John Doe responded to the call . When he arrived, he began to try to get the cattle back where they belonged. At one point, a heifer who felt cornered, lowered his head and charged the deputy. The bull knocked the deputy down to the ground. The trooper who came along for assistance said they're intimidating animals.
"I felt I had no choice but to use deadly force against him." says the trooper. "I was afraid the steer would kill my deputy," said the sheriff. "I had a clear shot of the cow and thought I should kill him."
"Farmer X is understandably upset about this," emphathized the reporter. "The bull he shot was due to have a calf in a couple weeks," said the reporter.

New Word (Don't Look it up Yet)

I came across a word yesterday I've never heard. While it's English, I found it on the blog of my French friend, Isabelle. She has better English than most Americans, and actually taught English Lit at Duke several years ago. She is still in her late 20s and has her PhD.

But I digress.

The word she used is adumbrated. Don't look it up. Just tell me which of the following definitions you think it is (or know it is):


Adumbrate (verb) means:

1. to make clear
2. to consolidate
3. to foreshadow
4. to silence or cancel

I think my sidebar poll will have a new word now and then. That'd be fun for some of you fellow word birds out there.

Snowgling

I invited Joel to cuddle up with me under a blanket while we watched the snow fall a few nights ago. My little six-year-old still gives me such delight by wanting to be near me. I know from experience my time is limited with this kind of affection, so I scoop it up now while I can.

I got my words a little tangled. I was going to say, "Joel, ya wanna snuggle?" But I was looking out the window and said, "Joel, ya wanna snowgle?"

He laughed and I coined a new phrase.


Snowgle: (verb) to snuggle when it's snowing

"New Food I Wanna Make" Tag

For years I have had a mental list going of "New Food I Wanna Make."

What's on the top 5 right now?

1. Key lime pie
2. Lobster bisque
3. Steamed artichokes with lemon butter
4. Roux
5. Something with mascarpone

I've concluded the reason I haven't tried yet is that I'd rather just have fun saying them. "Bisque" is so much more sophisticated-sounding than "soup" or "chowder." Artichokes? Does any word rhyme with it? It's a cool word and a cool veggie. Roux? I shall call myself a chef when I have made roux no matter the results. Mascarpone? Again, it outshines cheese as a word.

As for Key Lime Pie? I honestly do want to try to make it. Not a fancy name, but something I've had a hankerin' for lately.

I tag you if you have a similar quirky thing about food. Saying some food words is half the fun. What would be on your Top 5 ?

Joel's First Grammar Test

My first grade son, Joel, had his first grammar test today. He told me it was on nouns and verbs.

Me: How did you do?
Him: Good.
Me: You mean well?
Him: Yeh! I did good. Got all of 'em right.

Inklings, Lesson 2: You Got Syle?

Since a couple of you asked that I pass some Inklings class notes on to you via my blog, I'll share yesterday's lesson. (Thanks, by the way. I'm honored.)

Have you got style in your writing? A working definition of style is "how you say what you say." To improve style, we discussed three areas apropos to the students.

1. Use strong verbs.
2. Show, don't tell.
3. Replace cliches and jargon with original wording.


Regarding numero uno: Sometimes you can't help but use a state-of-being verb (is, are, was, were), but if you can, substitute an action verb. He was a maniac and put the pedal to the metal. Not only have we used a state-of-being verb, we've also used a cliche. Ack! Let's attack the first one first. Instead of using the ole' boring "was" to tell us Tom's crazy road behavior, try some action verbs to engage your reader. Tom used his knees to steer his Chevy on the interstate, swerving in and out of lanes at 85 miles an hour, simultaneously texting his girlfriend and swigging a Slurpie.

FYI: Friends don't let friends drive Chevies.

For the second point on showing vs. telling: That night she acted nervously when she heard someone walking behind her, and went faster to her car in the parking garage. Ir's an okay sentence, somewhat scary, but forgettable. Conversely, details make a difference. Ann heard heavy, steady footsteps behind her in the dark parking garage. She clutched her purse to her chest, bit her lip, and reached for her cell phone.

(Not that Ann is wise in choosing to be in a dark parking garage in the first place, but at least we can see the action in our mind's eye better than we could in the first example.)

Finally, addressing the only thing I hate worse than misused apostrophes: cliches and jargon. Why use phrases that are as moldy as last month's bagels when you can treat your reader to ones fresh from your linguistic oven? For my lovely Inklings, their jargon is filled with Christian cliches. We each made a list of seven examples of Christian jargon in one column, and rewrote them with our own original words in another column. The results? Scrumptious.

Sweet and Sobering Stuff from Class

Yesterday in grammar class I was going over a practice sheet on capitalization and punctuation with the students. Everyone was in a lighthearted mood, and there was lots of giggling and fun.
Imagine that during a grammar exercise. Instead of marking their papers for them, I let them mark their own mistakes and correct them as we went along.

One of the practice sentences I made up was this: would you please deliver these flowers on wednesday august 26 2009

The kid who offered the answer got everything right except said that flowers gets an apostrophe between the r and the s.

"Oh, no, no, no, no," I chirped. "I am the Queen of Apostrophes. If you learn nothing else in my class by the end of the year, you must learn how to use apostrophes correctly. There is no apostrophe in flowers the way it's used in this sentence. It's just a plural word. If I had said, 'These flowers' petals are falling off,' then you would need an apostrophe, but not in the sentence on this paper."

One kid asked, "If you're the Queen of Apostrophes, who's the king?"
"Stephen, " said another, who knows my son who graduated last year.

Then I added, "Take another look at this sentence. See the date? Does anyone know what's special about it?"

Kid 1: I think it's some kind of holiday,maybe?
Me: Not that I've heard of. Anyone else have an idea?
Kid 2: It's the day some big building is supposed to be finished being built.
Me: Could be, but I'm not sure what building that might be.
Kid 3: I think it's the day of the end of the world.
Me: I hope not because it's my birthday!

Ooh, for a second I was sobered to think the Lord might return in less than a year, and on my birthday of all days.

Another interchange from the same episode:

Me: Let me give you another example of apostrophes used incorrectly. Take a look at this . ( I wrote on the board : Shirt's 2/$15. )

Me: What's wrong with this sign?
Kid 4: It shouldn't have an apostrophe because there's nothing that belongs to the shirts. It's just plural.
Me: Bingo! You're exactly right.
Kid 5: Who would write that?
Me: Well, unfortunately, a lot of people. I see signs like this in stores all the time. The grocery store people will write "Plum's 1.99 / lb." Some sign makers are ignorant about punctuation, which means they don't know any better.


A little later, summing up with them...

Me: Okay, I'm going to ask each one of you to tell me one thing you learned from this practice.
Kid 3: You're not supposed to capitalize colors.
Me: Right.
Kid 1: You need a comma between the day and month and between the month and year.
Me: Good! You are correct.
Kid 6: If we don't learn how to use apostrophes right, we're gonna fail this class.
Me: Well, you might not graduate from this grammar class, that's right! (All in jest, which I clarified, because they can't always tell.) What else did you guys learn?
Kid 5: People that make signs in stores are ignorant .That means they
don't know any better.
Kid 4: They need you!
Me: (beaming) Aw, thanks!

I'm a Believer in Spelling Power

While spelling has always come easily for me, the same is not true of all my children. I had a grown up believing the theory that avid readers made good spellers. All my sisters were bookworms and had no trouble spelling. My parents devoured books and spelled well, even in foreign languages. I also believed good spelling was as genetic as curly hair or blue eyes. My parents could spell well, my sisters could spell well, and so I naturally assumed any offspring of mine would spell well.

Along came my firstborn who kept me thinking that at least part of my reasoning was correct. He was a biological child, had blue eyes, and spelled reasonably well. He disturbed the other part of my theory; he was not an avid reader nor wanted to become one. Give him a baseball, a bat, and a backyard and he was happy. (Backyard optional.) Ben--though he used some phonetic creativity in the first three or four years of school--soon began spelling almost everything passably well by fourth grade. Nothing atrocious. (Did I spell that right?) Nothing alarming. Nothing that made me incorporate spelling drills into my homeschool day. In fact, I secretly thought the mistakes were kind of cute and that he'd outgrow them soon enough.

Then along came Sarah. She shared my genes. My darling little girl who always had a book in one hand and a baby doll in the other. (Is it any wonder she has chosen Early Childhood Education as her major?) Sarah's second home has always been the local library. She would read books about animals, plants, children, families, colors, God, you name it. I have photos of her reading to Stephen on the sofa, their soft, little legs dangling just over the edge of cushions. How surprised I was, then, that her writing did not reflect all the correctly-spelled words she was reading. By fourth grade her inventions were anything but cute. I thought, "She'll never be a good elementary school teacher if she can't spell." I panicked. My daughter's future was so shaky, resting on pitifully strung-together letters she called werds. I mean words.

Nothing was wrong with my daughter. It was my theory about spelling that needed correcting.

That's when I went on an aggressive hunt to find a curriculum that would work. Memorizing lists was not helpful. Sure, she could ace any spelling test, but ask her two weeks later, and we were back to skwair one. Long-term retention was just not there. Giving her a bunch of rules didn't cure her. Scrapping 45 minutes of math in order to do 45 of spelling was torture (for both of us). I prayed more out of desperation than faith.

Enter Spelling Power. It was the talk of the homeschool town at the time. Not written by a Master of Spelling, but by a mom whose own daughter was flunking every test in school and was being emotionally affected by her failures. (Aren't we all?) She became a student of her daughter, pulled her out of school (if I'm remembering correctly) and began teaching her a new way of spelling. The results astounded everyone.

In a nutshell, here's what I remember being the keys to success with Spelling Power.

1) Fifteen minutes a day is all it takes--and all a kid CAN take mentally. Beyond that you get results inversely proportional to the amount of time spent studying words.

2) My way of doing the program worked fine. (I'm not patient about reading 30 pages of teacher helps in the intro. I plunge right in after getting the gist.) I am convinced you can tailor Spelling Power to your child's learning style and your teaching style.

3) You diagnose their level by finding a list they can easily master, and then move on.

4) The book doesn't say "Grade Whatever" on the cover, so no kid in 7th grade feels stupid seeing a big 4 on the front cover. Maybe the words he can master would by typical for a 4th grader, but most words in our everyday vocab are at about that level, so what's the big deal? The program can start with a very young reader and progress till at least 8th grade, I'd say.

5) The way I worked it with my kids was this: Pick a level a little below where I think they are competent. Have them spell the words orally until they start missing a few. Whatever they miss, they write down correctly with my help. When they miss 10, that's their weekly list. (If you think fewer than 10 is better, that's fine. Better a kid spell five words well than 10 poorly, right?)
They spell it by writing it, tracing it, closing their eyes and spelling aloud, and a couple other tricks of the educational trade. Come the next Friday, they are tested from their list. Get it right, it comes off their list. Miss it, and it's repeated the next week. So the list is THEIR own personal list, not some arbitrary one chosen by some nameless, faceless publisher doing a proper scope-and-sequence thingy.

6) Stick with it. If a kid hates to spell because of a mindset that "he can't" or because he'll be laughed at or put down or even hear his mother's exasperated sigh, he'll make up all kinds of excuses. He'll contract chicken pox from his pencil. He'll get hives from his ink pen. He'll come down with a sudden migraine, brought on by the mention of the word "spelling." Mom will feel similar symptoms. Don't buy into it. Stick with the plan. Poor spellers can become decent spellers. I am convinced. My Sarah is living proof. While she still occasionally asks, "How do you spell....?" it is not the norm.

My new theory is: good spelling is a visual thing. Look at a word spelled correctly, meditate on it, trace it, write it, spell it orally, write it again. All the top-notch spellers in the Scripps National Bee will "air write" on the back of their placards. Ever notice that? The word has to "look right" to a good speller.

Trust me on this one. Spelling Power cost me nearly fifty bucks (new) back in the day. It was worth every pene. I mean penny.

As a funny aside, when Joel was four he told me he could spell "cartoon." Really? I doubted him; he spent more time on the laptop than in books (to my shame and Sarah's horror). "Yeah," he announced. It's c-a-r-t-ENTER." (It always worked when he was trying to get to "Cartoon Network" online.)

-------------------------------------

For more info (in marketingese, here's something I lifted from a website called Castlemoyer.com.

All New Design!
4^th Edition Spelling Power

This famous, award-winning spelling program by Beverly L. Adams-Gordon just became better. Now featuring 21^st century technology, it still teaches solid back-to-basic spelling skills. Since 1994, Spelling Power has given home educators the perfect way to teach comprehensive spelling skills to their whole family. (See What's New in Spelling Power.)

Your students will use this research proven program to master the 5,000 most frequently used words. These words are divided into 11 levels based on their usage. Each level of Spelling Power’s unique word list is then further organized by phonetic principles and spelling rules.

Additional words that your students needs to master are taken from your student’s own writing errors and added to your Spelling Power program using the provided resources. Your students continue to study each of these words until they have spelled them correctly at least once. Then Spelling Power’s i>spiral curriculum approach of repeated, spaced review assures your students will master every word they study. And your students will master them! Spelling Power’s six levels of built-in review guarantees that every word taught will be mastered.

Multi-sensory study steps, inductive learning activities, interesting skill-building activities and games, and the incorporation of spelling into the rest of your curriculum are integral aspects of Adams-Gordon’s Spelling Power program. Everything you need to teach each of your students spelling skills to the college level is contained in this one easy-to-use, step-by-step curriculum package. You’ll even find everything you need to know to teach them proofreading and dictionary skills.

Vocab Answers

I posted the answers to "Take a Stab at New Vocab." See my comment box after that post for the latest in corn.

10 Items or Less? NO!

Grammarians don't write express lane signs.

Walk into any grocery story (except Giant) and you'll see signs that say, "10 Items or Less." They should say, "10 Items or Fewer."

Why? Because you can count items. Four calling birds, three French hens, two turtledoves. Count them.

With regard to the grocery store, they might be Cornish hens, but you could still count them, and if you were to put three on the checkout belt, you'd better not put more than seven of anything else on it. Not in these here parts anyhow.

With the impending ice storm, you run out to the store for bread, milk, and toilet paper. You reach the checkout and unload the gallon of milk onto the conveyor belt.
Rather, you mean to, but it slips out of your hand and bursts open on the floor. Milk seeps out, ounce by liquid white ounce. Now there is less milk in the jug and more on the floor. If you were to count the ounces, you would have fewer ounces of milk, but less milk. Get it?

You then request a book of stamps. To replace the milk, you ask? No, although that's a perfectly logical guess, but not quite where I'm headed with this grammar lesson.

The book of stamps has twenty stamps. Woops! Last time I checked, twenty stamps is roughly ten more than the ten items allotted in the express lane. Oh, you say, it's just one book, so you're okay.

Next time I'm in the express lane with ten items or fewer, I think I'll kindly (smugly?) tell the lady in front of me--the one buying a four-pack of Starbucks Frappucino and a box of powdered donut holes-- to move to the regular checkout lane. I just know from a quick count that there are more than six munchkins in that box.

On the other hand, if there's a man in front of me with a dozen roses, I'll smile and think, "How romantic." More flowers, more love. Fewer flowers, less love. (Not that I've EVER thought about love in such quantifiable terms or anything.)