Tuesday, August 22, 2017


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

In THIS POST, we talked about prefixes, suffixes, and root words. To date, that post has had more than 1,400 page views. I have no idea why it was so popular, but let's see if we can break that record by discussing more meanings of word parts (I'm not telling Willy Dunne Wooters about the 1,400+ because he'll say it's spambot; I'm sticking my tongue out at you, WDW).

According to our source, Vocabulary for a New World by Linda J. Palumbo and Frank J. Gaik, "learning the building blocks of words can help you to figure out and remember the meanings of many new words you encounter."

Palumbo and Gaik point out in one section of the book how the root "patri or pater, for father, spawns several related words."

Patri plus archy, which means rule gives us

patriarchy = rule by the fathers

Patri plus mony, which means wealth gives us

patrimony = the wealth of the father


patrimonialism = a system of authority based on inherited wealth

The suffixes -ic, -al, and -ous mean "made of or characterized by" and can be "used to turn some words into advectives."

poetic = in the form or spirit of a poem
porous = having pores
aquatic = of the water 

Do you recognize these word parts related to forms and measures?


Neo, of course, means new, as in neo-Nazi, but I'd say a Nazi is a Nazi is a Nazi.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Thanks, fishducky!

Monday, August 21, 2017


But I don't mean obscene names for the president, Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

We've always been big on nicknames in my family. My mother used to call a young woman with short curly hair who lived in her neighborhood "Betty Boop." It became so popular that everyone who lived there started calling the woman Betty Boop––sometimes to her face.

But I also invent names for people based on certain facets of their personality or their behavior (not cruel names).

A few months ago I shopped at Target and no matter what I said to the cashier, he replied, oooookey doooookey. Based on the way he emitted his okey dokeys, I suspected he was as high as the sky.

Naturally, his name is now "the high guy." I have no idea what his real name is.

And how about those name tags some cashiers wear that say


I know it means that the person has been working there that long, but I always want to ask, If you've been George for seven years, then who were you before that?

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Friday, August 18, 2017


And you do not want to deal with a Junebug in a bad mood, Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

When Donald Trump was elected, I was shocked. I didn't turn on the news until late in the afternoon on that fateful day. I looked at the available returns and polls and knew: She will win the popular vote, but he will win the electoral college.

For the next two weeks, I cried every day. But I was also in denial. I told myself and my friends, It's going to be all right. Somehow it will be okay. We'll be fine.

Then I looked at the glass in my hand and realized it was half-empty. I accepted reality.

Now we've had a tragic clash in Charlottesville, with bad people on both sides, according to the president. But why did people who don't even live in Charlottesville gather there to hold their White Nationalist shindig? The side with the Tiki torches may have had a permit to gather, but they didn't have a permit to incite violence. With a group like that, however, a gathering amounts to inciting violence. That's what these good ole' boys are all about, and Charlottesville was not prepared to deal with their numbers.

As each day passes since that event, I haven't learned to feel calm and at peace about it. I haven't said, This too shall pass. I haven't let it go and moved on.

Rather, as I learn more about what occurred from people who were actually there, my anger grows. I'm beyond being able to say, Let's find something to laugh about.

Favorite Young Man and I watched quite a bit of news on Saturday and Sunday. He expressed surprise that such a thing would happen in Charlottesville, a liberal university town.

I told him that Charlottesville has long been a town divided (no doubt town officials disagree with me), and, thus, ripe for the picking by the KKK, Aryan Nation, alt-right––whatever they call themselves, "they" are those who come in hatred.

I went on to explain to Favorite Young Man that white descendants of Thomas Jefferson wouldn't consider allowing the black descendants of Thomas Jefferson to join their organization until the black descendants took DNA tests to prove their lineage, and even then the descendants of the Jefferson-Hemmings union were invited to attend the white descendants' meetings as guests, not as full-fledged members. This occurred in spite of the fact that historians began writing about the children of Jefferson and his slave, Sally Hemmings, in the 1970s. This occurred in spite of the long-known "open secret" in Charlottesville that if one saw a light-skinned black person with red hair, then that person was likely to be a Jefferson family member. This occurred in spite of the knowledge that Sally Hemmings and her siblings were of mixed race and were half-siblings to Jefferson's wife. Hemmings' children were of mostly European descent. But one drop of so-called black blood? They're not the real thing, apparently.

I doubt if the white descendants ever had to take DNA tests to prove their status.

This refusal to acknowledge ALL of Jefferson's direct descendants is an emblem of the division in Charlottesville, a town that is predominantly white. And Southern.

Sadly, my theory about the town has been confirmed by some articles I've read and by comments from citizens of Charlottesville. One African-American woman stated that the master in Monticello had been looking down on them in the town for far too long. That doesn't mean we should knock down Monticello and disavow Thomas Jefferson as one of the founders of our country, but it does mean we need to recognize his role in the misery that was slavery. It does mean we need to recognize his second family.

We can acknowledge the grief and the mistakes of slavery in museums. We do not need statues of Confederate leaders in parks and city centers. To ask "where will it stop?" and suggest that statues of George Washington will be pulled down next is to demonstrate one's ignorance. Yes, George Washington owned slaves, but he wasn't a traitor to his country who suggested that the Union of States be divided.

I also heard someone say on television that having a statue of Robert E. Lee certainly wasn't as bad as having a statue of Nathan Bedford Forrest. Aren't they all traitors to the Union?

Plus, until a few years ago, my own city had a Nathan Bedford Forrest High School. It took many years to remove the name of the man who founded the KKK. Now, let's change the names of all schools named after Confederate leaders. We don't need Jefferson Davis High School any more than we need Robert E. Lee High School. Let's name our schools after peacemakers and heroes, not losers.

Yes, I am one angry Junebug, and I don't picture myself getting over it anytime soon.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

public domain photo

"Let us reject any among us who seek to reopen old wounds and to rekindle old hatreds. They stand in the way of a seeking nation. Let us now join reason to faith and action to experience, to transform our unity of interest into a unity of purpose. For the hour and the day and the time are here to achieve progress without strife, to achieve change without hatred—not without difference of opinion, but without the deep and abiding divisions which scar the union for generations."

Friday, August 11, 2017


Gentle Readers . .  and Maxwell,

I first published A FINAL EVENING ON LAKE JUNEBUG on October 6, 2014. It's had 232 page views, but it won't complain if more people look at it. I think it's a good time to read it again, or read it for the first time, because Lake Junebug overflows from daily thunderstorms.

A unique feature in this post is the appearance of the late, handsome Harper––a smooth collie/malinois mix. Harper plays two roles. First, he is the "wildlife." The he returns as the suave, dignified guest, Monsieur Malinois. Exactly the kind of dude you meet during a vacation on Lake Junebug.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug, proprietor

Many of you have written posts about the arrival of autumn. It's still warm here in Northern Florida, but it's pleasant. The humidity is tolerable. While the weather is nice, I recommend you take one last vacation for the year. You need an evening on Lake Junebug.

My prices are low (however much I owe the IRS so about $4,000 and that can be a group rate if you want to bring some pals or the whole family). It's rained a great deal lately so the lake is full. Notice the trees reflected in the beautiful clear water:

Architecture buffs will enjoy attractions such as the steps that lead down to the lake:

Look at the beautiful vegetation right next to the lake:

You'll feel as if you're visiting the Galapagos. Wildlife surrounds Lake Junebug:

Monsieur Malinois, I presume? You meet the elite when you vacation on Lake Junebug:

The dining area, where our chef prepares gourmet meals on the grill:

Another lovely view of the deluxe amenities:

The fence guarantees privacy should you want to indulge in a little skinny dipping:

I haven't set up the hammock yet, but it's a hammock for two. Romance guaranteed. If you bring the kids, they can sleep on the deck itself. They'll be thrilled by this outdoor adventure.

Be sure to book your trip soon. If you wait too long, the party will be over.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017


AND DON'T COME BACK SOME OTHER DAY, Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

With a thunderstorm nearly every day, Lake Junebug is quite full. I would suggest that you make your reservations for the Lake Junebug Resort, but it doesn't stop raining long enough to do anything.

I was out gallivanting around this afternoon when today's storm started. Going from a store to my car, I got soaked. I looked as if I had taken a shower with my clothes on.

Before yesterday's storm, it was somewhat dry just long enough for Franklin to roll in the muck in the backyard. His new name is Stinky.

According to the forecast, the weather system that's with us now is supposed to hang around and get worse by the weekend. I don't know how it can get worse, but anything is possible.

Lappie is fine now. She has no complaints about the duct tape holding her together.

I continue to apply for jobs, so I'm not blogging regularly. Previous interest from employers resulted in an interview for a job that I could have done in my sleep. Of course, I didn't get it.

The search continues.

Infinities of love,

A Soaked Janie Junebug

Lake Junebug looks a lot like this photo that I took after Hurricane Matthew visited us last year:

Wednesday, August 2, 2017


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

After a scan, I think Lappie is herself again--except that one corner of her case will be held in place by duct tape.

It's going to take me a while to catch up on everything.

Thanks to all of you who offered sympathy and advice.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Tuesday, August 1, 2017


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

My laptop is home, but she is wounded and not working properly.

I should not have taken her to a repair store without talking to Willy Dunne Wooters first. He had a good experience with this chain of stores, but the place he used is in a different location. The store closer to my home is run by children. They might be self-described nerds, but they are not very responsible nerds.

They want $200 to repair her. Don't tell Lappie that I said this, but she's not worth it. She only cost about $400 in the first place.

Therefore, I'm not spending $200 on her. Yes, I can duct tape her together (it's the bottom case that came apart in one corner), but she'll have to be replaced at some point.

And she is not the same sweet Lappie I took to the store run by child nerds. Ads pop up on her all the time. Notices pop up that say Google is tracking my searches. I know I had some kind of blocker on her, but I can't remember what I did before to make her my darling Lappie.

Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh, dear.

I bet one of you will remind me how to make her into my Lappie again, or Willy Dunne Wooters will help.

I'm not thinking clearly after my terrible experience with the little boy nerds.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug