The language that is. My first today is to honour this exuberant modality of intercourse that has many diverse dialects albeit one true origin. English. It is a vibrant language with a rich heritage and is comprised of terminology from several of the great languages and a few not so great ones.
I love how English has a multitude of pronunciations and interpretations for the same word. Context is a beautiful thing.
Winston Churchill was a true master of the English language. If you observe some of his writings, you’ll see phrases and vocabulary that will have you running for the esteemed Oxford English Dictionary.
Of course, we don’t need any degree of pontification to be considered fluent in a language. To be deemed verbose or a master of it is an entirely different matter.
I attended grammar school in the latter part of my schooling, when we lived in Stafford. A classic institution, the faculty all wore black gowns and it was a sojourn to a prior era just attending daily. It makes my cerebellum undulate to contemplate the English classes in that facility. To this day, I can’t remember the nuances of sentence constructs that were not-so-lovingly imparted to us. 40 years after and I honestly can’t convey whether I actually had the opportunity to take advantage of a gerund. If I did, it was purely unintentional and was done under the guise of a temporary madness.
One of the blessings from my adventure in daily blogging is that it is engaging me with my writing again – a vocation I especially enjoy – and I look forward to a plethora of opportunities to deploy my verbosity.