A Word For That

Fi: "Papa, what's the dented skin between my nose and mouth called?"
Me: "Um, I don't know. Let's look it up online."

A Google search reveals that the dented skin between the nose and mouth is called the philtrum.

Me: "Why did you want know?"
Fi: "I heard the word in a song and wanted to look it up in my dictionary."
Me: "What song?"
Fi: "A Word For That."



A Word For That

There's a word for that but I don't seem to know it
Sometimes I grow a moustache just so I don't have to show it
The word for that that someone, somewhere chose
For that little dented skin between my upper lip and nose

There's a word for that what does it start with?
A word for that I'd sound so smart if I only knew
The word for that perhaps you do?

(The word you're looking for is philtrum.)

There's a word for that it may come to me soon
It dangles down in my mouth, and it's often in cartoons
The word for that it seems like such a drag
To not know what to call that little fleshy punching bag

There's a word for that what does it start with?
A word for that I'd sound so smart if I only knew
The word for that perhaps you do?

(Do you mean uvula?)

There's a word for that it's on the tip of my tongue
Well actually underneath it, and has been since I was young
The word for that although I wouldn't quote
It likely stops my tongue from disappearing down my throat

There's a word for that what does it start with?
A word for that I'd sound so smart if I only knew
The word for that perhaps you do?
What does it start with?
A word for that I'd sound so smart if I only knew
The word for that perhaps you do?

(Are you nuts? It's frenulum)

From "Snacktime!" by the Barenaked Ladies.

Level 12

"Have you reached twelve yet?" is a recurring question when visiting Pop and Nana.  My father-in-law, my spouse and I have been WELDing off and on over the past few weeks (more here), hoping to defeat the broken tile mess that is level twelve. 

Well, Pop, I finally did it.  After "extracting" five hundred and thirty five words I reached and beat level twelve last night.  A little happy dance accompanied the cascade finale, I'm not ashamed to say.

Finally, a word game victory.  My spouse always trounces me at Scrabble, so allow me to gloat a little, at least until the Scrabble board comes out, which will probably be tonight. 

Update:  3 new levels, apocalypse swap and shake to undo (and more in an app update just today).  Oh boy, here we go again!

Wordle Wonder

Today I introduced my students to wordles ("word clouds").  When they came in from morning recess, my students saw a powerpoint slide that read "What is a wordle?"  Interesting answers were given, mostly of the humourous sort.  The next slide explained what wordles were and how they originated. Then I showed the next slide, which was a wordle created from one of the student's stories.  There was a collective intake of breath, and then, "Oh, that's sooo coooool!"  "Who wrote the story?", I asked.  "Alexis!", they exclaimed. (it was a creative story about The Great Marshmallow, which the students recognized right away).  I told them that today they were going to create wordles of their own.  Excitement ensued (the feeling of electricity was palpable).  The previous day they wrote down thirty or so words that described themselves, including characteristics, favourite things, physical descriptions, and so on.  These words were for inserting into the wordle generator, found at http://www.wordle.net/.  Students who didn't finish their thirty word descriptions frantically completed their assignment.  "Mr. K!  Come here!  What words would you use to describe me?"  To those students I suggested they work with a classmate (I don't like directing writing if I can help it as I want students to come up with their own ideas or collaborate with a partner).  Some students grabbed thesauruses and later even looked online in the computer lab at dictionaries and thesauruses.  After I showed them how to use wordle.net to greatest advantage (colour schemes, layouts, fonts, etc.), we proceeded to the computer lab where, for forty-five minutes, my students were totally and actively engaged in the assignment.  I haven't had as many of these actively engaged moments as last year teaching the same class (two years with the same group is difficult for both teacher and students).  Those forty five minutes are ones which I will hold on to as a reminder of the good things about teaching when the "no-so-good moments" rear their ugly heads.