What's in a Name?

I love words. I love language; I love to read. I love poetry and prose. I love grammar, etymology, proper usage and semantics. I also love to spell. No, really, I love spellin'!

I also love order. I have a lot of "Deputy Dawg" in me (as my husband, the Silver Fox, likes to remind me -- he does not consider this the compliment that I do) and I like rules and directions and for people to follow them. Order is good. In the beginning the Spirit moved over the water and the Lord created order out of chaos, until Adam and Eve had to go and screw it all up for all of us scheduling types. I'm just biding my time until Jesus comes back and sets it all right. I don't know what all of you spontaneous types are going to do in the Kingdom, but I'm sure we can work something out for you.

My affinity for spellin' and rules (read: total dorkiness) made me a natural choice for judge of our school's Spelling Bee several years ago, and because I was the only one who seemed to be able to interpret the infamous rules ten and eleven (read: because I'm a total loser), I was promoted to pronouncer when the former Matriarch of the Bee retired from teaching. It was a grand day, let me tell you. I bought a new outfit and everything.

Since then, I've only missed the Bee once, and, believe me, it was unavoidable. That's another post for another day. The year before, while I was on stage pronouncing and explaining rules for all of the babies and their mamas and their teachers who still remember the rules from nineteen aught-seven (they were different back then), there was a special visitor from another school in the back of the room. She had just been appointed coordinator of her school's bee and she was visiting us to see how to run the bee.

She leaned over to our bee coordinator and whispered, "Who is that lady? Does she work for the 'Spelling Bee Company'? Can she come and help at our school?" And, that, my friends, is how your Aunt Sat became the Spelling Bee Lady.