Russian is one of those languages, like German, that you just have to sound out. The words are simply too long. This week I learned to say the name of my agency. It is four words long and over 22 letter! That is quite a mouthful.

I thought I would look up the longest word in the English language and share it. According to Wikipedia (always a great source of knowledge, both fake and real), the longest technical word, coined to be the largest word in the English language is:

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis is, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, “a factitious word alleged to mean ‘a lung disease caused by the inhalation of very fine silica dust, causing inflammation in the lungs.’” A condition meeting the word’s definition is normally called silicosis.

Other contenders included:

Pseudopseudohypoparathyroidism (pseudoPHP) is an inherited disorder, named for its similarity to pseudohypoparathyroidism in presentation. The term pseudopseudohypoparathyroidism is used to describe a condition where the individual has the phenotypic appearance of pseudohypoparathyroidism type 1a, but is biochemically normal.

and

floccinaucinihilipilification:
The act or habit of describing or regarding something as worthless.
1741: William Shenstone, Letters,
I loved him for nothing so much as his flocci-nauci-nihili-pili-fication of money.
1970: Patrick O’Brian, Master and Commander,
There is a systematic flocci-nauci-nihili-pilification of all other aspects of existence that angers me.

About.com gives this interesting piece about what could be or is the longest word in the Spanish language.  Because of the quantity of Spanish post-fixes and pre-fixes, this lends itself to an interesting discussion:

What is the longest word in Spanish?The answer depends on what you mean by the longest word, but regardless of your definition the longest word isn’t superextraordinarísimo, the 22-letter word once listed in the famous recordbook and the word most often cited as the longest in the language. (It means “most superextraordinary.”)

The designation of superextraordinarísimo seems arbitrary at best. For one thing, the word isn’t in real use. As of this writing, a Google search shows not a single instance where the word was used on a Spanish-language Web site — except on pages listing what they called the longest Spanish words. And superextraordinarísimo has two other strikes against it: If one is going to create words by adding prefixes and suffixes, one could just as well make a 27-letter word by using the adverbial form, superextraordinarísimamente. Or one could just as easily use longer root words, ending up with words such as superespectacularísimamente(“most superspectacularly”). But again they’re hypothetical words rather than ones that get legitimate use.

A better choice for a 22-letter word isesternocleidomastoideo, the name of a certain neck muscle. It can be found in Spanish-language medical texts.

But we can do better without coining words. The longest words in real use appear to be two 23-letter beauties: anticonstitucionalmente(“unconstitutionally”) and electroencefalografista(“electroencephalograph technician”). Since the latter is a noun, it can be made a 24-letter plural, electroencefalografistas, my designation as the longest legitimate Spanish word. And it indeed is a word in real use — not everyday use, but you can find it listed in some phone directories, for example.

By coining cognates of some especially long English words, it would be possible to come up with longer words still. For example, some medical words and names of certain chemicals English top 30 letters, and the longest English word listed in an accepted dictionary is reported to be “pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis,” a type of lung disease. A translation of the word to Spanish, which is made easy by the fact that all the roots have Spanish cognates, presumably would be neumonoultramicroscopicosiliciovolcanconiosis at 45 letters, or something similar. But such words would probably be considered spurious rather than legitimate Spanish.

Yesterday we got more proof that S is now, and always has been, the favorite uncle/aunt.

A while back I mentioned that Niece started buying Christmas gifts for the family. The first year I was left off, but my dog, Harley, made the list. Last year, I, again, was left off—or rather left in the other aunt category, and both Harley and S made the list.  To tell you the truth—I am not offended or surprised.  The girl has a love of dogs you can spot miles away and S is just really really good with kids.

Yesterday was Niece and Nephew’s final soccer game of the year.  It was also the first one that S could attend.  They were both overjoyed to have him there. Also, we got great proof that S is still the favorite of favorites:

• Nephew is studying Spanish.  At his parent-teacher conference, my sister was told that Nephew had great motivation to learn Spanish so he could speak to his Uncle.
• Niece played her whole soccer game using one of S’s scrunchies for good luck. She also went around telling her whole team about her special S hair tie.

Plans for today:

• French toast
• See friends from graduate school
• Picnic at the park while my niece and nephew play their last soccer games of the year
• DC site seeing with friend in from out of town
• Dinner in the city– probably Ethiopian food– yum!
• Try to stay up until a reasonable hour (aka no more of this bedtime at 8pm.)

I thought today I would share my favorite quote; my favorite soliloquy. It is from The Fantastics, the longest running musical of all time (it played 17,162 performances before shutting down its run 1960-2002). I have listened to, read, and watched this piece my entire life. I think it deeply colored the way I think the world should be; the way I think that love should be.

“You wonder how these things begin. Well, this begins with a glen. It begins with a season which, for want of a better word, we may as well call- September. It begins in a forest where the woodchucks woo, and the leaves wax green, and vines intertwine like lovers; try to see it. Not with your eyes, for they are wise, but see it with your ears: the cool green breathing of the leaves. And hear it with the inside of your hand: the soundless sound of shadows flicking light. Celebrate sensation. Recall that secret place. You’ve been there, you remember: That special place where once- Just once- in your crowded sunlit lifetime, you hid away in shadow from the tyranny of time. That spot beside the clover where someone’s hand held your hand and love was sweeter than the berries, or the honey, or the stinging taste of mint. It is September- before a rainfall- a perfect time to be in love.”

Growl!, originally uploaded by coming2cambodia.

Taken in Valparaiso, 2007.
Subject: Harley the pup

PS This is coming out on Thursday because I am so busy, I don’t know what day of the week it is!

Harley was a traumatize puppy.  Without the intense psychotherapy a human in her position would get, she has done well, in her little doggy mind, to work her way through this.  One of the largest behavioral changes I have witnessed is her grudging acceptance of my niece and nephew.  Children, you see, are near the top of her “I hate you” and “I fear you” lists.  Other things on that list include, bicycles, tractors, shorter adults, people who smoke, people who are drunk, people who smell like red wine, and coins rattling in a tin can.

She really just is fearful. She tries to play this off as if she were tough. I have proof that she is not.

The very last time that Harley visited Grandma—in fact, the very last time I saw Grandma alive—Harley was attacked by the therapy dog.  I know, I know. Therapy dogs should be your kindest, sweetest, gentlest of creatures. Max, apparently, was not.  Max attacked Harley and she shrieked! She also snapped at Max.  She always stopped short of biting him though. She would pretend she was going to and then she would hide between my legs.

Back to the story at hand: the kids terrify her.  When they came to visit in Chile, after several days in her “house”, she agreed to come out and put up with them. She didn’t snap or bark at them, but she was wary and scared.  Fast or erratic movements freaked her out.

While I was in Almaty, Harley was at my sister’s house.  I will admit, while I was very happy that my sister and her family offered to watch Harley, I was terrified that something would go wrong:  that she wouldn’t be able to calm down, that she would escape out the front door, that she would scare some little friend that came over to play.

Turns out—this was a great idea.  Harley actually started to feel at home. At one point, my sister, worried about Harley’s behavior, called Dad to ask what to do. Harley was running in circles, pouncing, and very wound up.  My father told her the truth: this was Harley at play. My sister had never seen it before and the fact that she now has puts my heart at ease.

Apparently it put her at ease too.  Having had a two week trial run, they brought home Sadie. And here she is:

Way back when, when S and I got engaged, we mostly wanted needed money.  People were extremely generous with us (and we got some physical gifts as well).  One of the first, physical gifts we got was a singing cow.  It perfectly, although not so subtly, alluded to the obvious.  A Wisconsin girl had fallen in love with a Spanish-only speaking Chilean.  The cow sings, in Spanish, and moos—it brings me endless laughter and freaks out the dog.

I am mostly posting this so that Dan and Helen, who gave us said singing/mooing cow can see it now.  It has a prominent space in our home and an actual use: holder of myriad hair bands and jewelry.

Thanks!!!

So? Is any one else taking part???

…I know… not the best of starts, but today I started Russian as well. Tomorrow there will be a real post and of course Wednesday is Photo Wednesday.

Well, it is November and we are back to that month—the month where I take on the challenge to blog every day.  I did it last year and the year before. S always asks why I do it. He doesn’t get a point to the challenge.  To be honest, he doesn’t understand why I blog of the connections I have made through the blogosphere.  But, even on my third year, I want to take the challenge.

And it is a challenge.

Yesterday, I flew home from Almaty.  I left the hotel at 1:30 am for the airport.  Because my pickup time was 1:30am, I decided I should just not go to sleep.  I ended up watching Flash Forward which I had always thought looked really dumb in the commercials.   It wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected it to be.

So, after the 1:30am pick-up I was in transit to US soil for 22.5 hours.  This included the flight from Almaty to Frankfort, three plus hours in the Frankfort airport, and the flight from Frankfort to DC. It does not include the time it took me to get my luggage, find a cab, drive to my sister’s place and get my dog. The best worst part of international travel was that although almost an entire day had passed, I arrived home at 3 in the afternoon—just in time for trick-or-treating.

That was yesterday. Today S arrives—I am currently waiting to hear that he cleared customs. The next day we start Russian classes.  November will be the month of Russian and Thanksgiving and, hopefully, a blog a day.

Falling colors, originally uploaded by coming2cambodia.

Taken in Almaty, Kazakhstan.

***Sorry it is late— Can I blame the time change???***