WE WON!

WE WON THE CANADIAN LOTTERY!

Yep, without even purchasing a lottery ticket, we have been informed that we are one of 24 winners of the $3 Million US dollars Shoppers Sweepstakes Lottery. Our portion of the winnings is a whopping $125,000! Yippee!

Enclosed with the letter informing us of our windfall was a check for $3,875 for the payment of applicable Government Taxes. The check was drawn on Sovereign Bank.

Of course I shouldn't be publicizing our unexpected good fortune because we were urged to keep the winning confidential until the claim is processed. This is to discourage "unscrupulous acts by non participants taking advantage of this program." I know I wouldn't want to be besieged by low-life acquaintances looking for handouts, but then I don't know anyone who would do that so I'm not worried about it.

We are going to use the proceeds to invest in some bargain priced bridge property in New York City (Brooklyn to be exact.)

Sucker Punch

A sucker punch is a blow made without warning, allowing no time for preparation or defense on the part of the recipient. It is usually delivered from close range or from behind.

Lessons Learned

In honor of my daughter's (almost) completion of her first year of Latin studies is this poem. I'm so proud that she was able to jump into the fourth year of Latin class with her classmates. She has kept up and actually done quite well.

The key to understanding this poem is that the Latin word Amo means "to love", while the Latin word Amarus means bitter. Both words can take the form Amare. Amare is the present active infinitive of amo (love), and the vocative masculine singular of the adjective amarus (bitter).

I thought the poem was particularly apropos the current season.

 

A Lesson in Latin

Lewis Carroll, A Lesson in Latin:

Our Latin books, in motley row,
  Invite us to our task—
Gay Horace, stately Cicero:
Yet there's one verb, when once we know,
  No higher skill we ask:
This ranks all other lore above—
We've learned "'Amare' means 'to love'!"

So, hour by hour, from flower to flower,
  We sip the sweets of Life:
Till, all too soon, the clouds arise,
And flaming cheeks and flashing eyes
  Proclaim the dawn of strife:
With half a smile and half a sigh,
"Amare! Bitter One!" we cry.

Last night we owned, with looks forlorn,
  "Too well the scholar knows
There is no rose without a thorn"—
But peace is made! We sing, this morn,
  "No thorn without a rose!"
Our Latin lesson is complete:
We've learned that Love is Bitter-Sweet!