Pandiculation!

 Pandiculation:  the act of stretching oneself, especially on waking.

Every so often I come upon a new, to me, English vocabulary word that strikes my fancy.  Pandiculation is certainly apropos after yesterday's One Poem a Day, in which I was  prompted  to scrutinize a bit of my childhood activities in comparison with an animal, I chose a  domesticated cat.  And, heaven knows, cats are masterful in their ability and success at pandiculation!

A little more on the subject of pandiculation from Eyal Lederman, Therapeutic Stretching:                                           Toward a functional approach, 2014:"There's a shared animal and human behavior of "having a stretch" ad yawning called pandiculation.  It is often a combination of elongating, shortening and stiffening of muscles throughout the body."

And, this from Leon Gilbert, "The Delights of Sneezing," in the Sidney Morning Herald, July 17, 1949:   "I had hoped to deal, here, with two other minor emotional luxuries that have been hitherto hidden in obscurity.  They are oscillation (yawning) and pandiculation (stretching) which may be practiced separately or together.

Pandiculation, "stretching (as when waking up), comes to us via French pandiculation, from the latin verb pandiculari "to stretch, grimace."  Pandiculari is a derivative of pandere "to spread out, extend."

Pandiculation entered English in the early 17th century.

One moment please . . . while I pandiculate!

Poetry Writing Days Three and Four

 Day Three:

Prompt:  Consider your best quality and choose an animal to symbolize it.  Write a poem celebrating this animal within you.

Hmmm?  Jostled this prompt around in my head off and on during the day; the CAT kept popping into my mind.  

Here goes:

I'm inquisitive and adventurous, a little like a cat.

As a child . . . 

Playing, exploring, adventuring outside

    Four-leaf-clover searching

    Orchard trail-blazing, traipsing, hiding

    Flora and fauna investigating

    Camping and stargazing

And, indoors

 Saturday matinee - fascination, imagination, and Hershey bar enthrallment 

    Post-motion picture fantasies with grooming and costuming

    Utilizing Mom's assortment of fabrics stored in Dad's military trunk

    Mostly brightly patterned and colored chicken-feed sacks

Oh, the exploits I'd have.

Day four prompt:  Describe an everyday object in a way that makes it sound compelling, and make it come alive in your poem.

It lies, just waiting, in a small, white tray in my bathroom drawer

Bristles at the ready, rinsed and dry after faithful duty last eve

Such an insignificant necessity for a twice-daily activity

But, oh my, how irritating and uncomfortable when absent.

That long-awaited trip out of town

Oh, I forgot to pack my toothbrush.

I'm miserable, in an all alone, private manner

Not at all valuable to others, not even noticeable

But, to me and almost all-consuming, physical, intellectual, emotional travesty

    

Poetry Writing, Day Two

From "One Poem a Day," my Day Two prompt reads: Write a rhyming poem about the ocean using any or all of the words provided: tide hide inside sail prevail. Here goes: Life is akin to an ocean tide Ebbing, flowing, to and fro. On my life's ride, I've endeavored to hide Many foibles I've mastered throughout the journey Way deep down . . .in my secret inside.

A New Endeavor

Poetry has always, or at least mostly, baffled me. I enjoy writing,but have found myself wanting when it comes to understanding the author's point when reading a poem. Last week I requested birthday gift ideas for my granddaughter Holland, and my daughter Kari mentioned that Holland's interested in writing poetry and might really make use of a poetry-writing journal. Good suggestion, I thought, so I went online to my trusty friend, Amazon, and ordered one blank-page journal and one daily journal called "One Poem a Day: A Writer's Daily Journal of Words and Inspiration," in which each page is begun with a writing prompt. As I gazed through "Inside this book," I liked what I read "flipping" through the pages. Well, thought I, if this would inspire Holland, why not try a copy out for myself? My copy of "One Poem a Day" arrived yesterday afternoon; I didn't even open it until a few minutes ago, but, when I did, I actually felt excited about trying it out. Here's the first poem I've ever written: The page-one prompt reads: Write a poem about something tha makes you uncomfortable. Leave no emotional stone unturned. Am I a rascist? I think not, or maybe I think so. I see "noticable" physical definitions and differences . . . skin color, curl of hair, width of nostrils, roundness of buttocks, height, weight, head covering, attire. I hear variations and accents in speech . . . foreign (where from?), East Coast, Texas, deep south, "black." I'm frequently mistaken and new acquaintances are relegated, in error, to an erronious nationality, region, religion, socio-economic group. Then, sometimes quickly, sometimes more slowly . . . my consciousness and morality remind me, once again . . . We are ALL children of God.

"The Splendid and the Vile"

I don't consider myself much of of an espionage-genre-reading fanatic, but recently read a book that really captivated me, as it takes place during a period of American history that I remember well. It's "The Splendid and the Vile" by Erik Larson; I'd followed Bill Gates' suggestion to give it a try and found it to be, not only well-written, but really emotionally exciting and intense. I'm in awe of people who were able to function in that in-your-face kind of espionage; our present world is maneuvered more remotely by artificial intelligence and data-hacking, but for centuries espionage and spying took place on a very jpersonal level.