Word Quiz #4 Punctuation: the Apostrophe

From Word Studio Winter Newsletter here

Apostrophes are used in 4 basic ways: to take the place of an omitted letter or letters when writing a shortened form of the word; to take the place of a omitted figure or figures; to show possession in nouns; often used with s (‘s) to form the plural of a figure, a letter, an abbreviation or a word that is referred to as a word.

1. When (it’s, its) seven o’clock, give the dog (it’s, its) food.
2. The (womens, women’s, womens’) ski club will meet Saturday morning.
3. Write your (s’es, s’s, ss’) bigger please.
4. (There’s, Theres, Theirs, Theirs’) room for two (2’s, 2’s, 2s’) at the corner table for four.
5. The (Kimberley’s, Kimberleys’) old car can reach a top speed in the (70s. 70’s, 70s

Answers: 1. it’s, its.  2. women’s, o’clock. 3. s’s.   4. There’s, 2’s. 5. Kimberleys’, 70’s.

Tables for Peace

Excerpt from inaugural issue of  DIVERSE Magazine November 2009

Tables for Peace

A young woman had never celebrated Christmas away from Japan.  We gathered branches in the forest to make a front door wreath and used some for the table.  She was eager to learn about western Christmas traditions and the formal placement of cutlery, plates, napkins and glasses.  She guided us in making origami cranes and candy holders to add to the decor.  When she finished lighting the candles she bowed and said, “Your table is like a shrine.”  Tables for Peace diversemagazine.ca by Virginia Gillespie

Word Lover, Pablo Neruda

“It’s the words that sing, they soar and descend. I bow to them. I love them, I cling to them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down. I love words so much.  the unexpected ones, the ones I wait for greedily or stalk until, suddenly they drop.  Vowels, I love them.  They glitter like colored stones, they leap like silver fish, they are foam, thread, metal, dew.  I run after certain words.  They are so beautiful that I want to fit them all into my poem.  I catch them in mid-flight, as they buzz past, I trap the, clean them, peel them.  I set myself in front of the dish, they have a crystalline texture to me, vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agates, like olives.  and then I stir them, I shake them I drink them, I gulp them down.  I mash them, I garnish them, I let them go.  I leave them in my poem like stalactites, like slivers of polished wood, like coals, pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from the waves.  Everything exists in the word.”