Our daughters learned to spell by ear. Fortunately for us, music, singing, reading and theatre were part of their lives from a very early age.

Their ears were well tuned.

So, when a note appeared on our kitchen table, “Roobie the dawg iz ate muns old. She thru up on the carpit bee for brekfust. It wuz diskusting. But we luv her enne wa.” We understood pirfictly.

Spelling was not one of my strong areas. “Dandy Lions” were what we picked (from neighborhood yards) for my father's Dandy Lion wine — a formidable concoction that got brewed every year in our basement at home.

How was I to know the correct spelling? Filling a bushel basket was my job. I don't even recall when I learned how to spell dandelion. All I knew was that I hated to see them dotting the landscape! Who in their right mind picked Dandy Lions?

Eventually the lions turned white and went to seed. They became a fascinating puff ball of intricate silken crystals that, when zipped into the air, left a feathery trail along the breeze. We ran through them and rolled over them and flicked them with our snapping fingers. We even almost enjoyed their transformation.

P.S. Imagine a game of Scrabble at our house, or better yet, Jepper D!