Misery–the English word for unhappiness, misfortune, or distress–comes from the Old French misere by way of the Latin miseria, the word for wretchedness.

Misericordia is the Latin word for “mercy,” derived from misericors, “merciful,” which is in turn derived from miserere, “to pity,” and cor, “heart.”

Put it together, I suppose, and my confusion disappears: what I have uncovered in the word that points two ways are false cognates but not false friends?

More familiar markings on a second deck, still short of a load:

Now the gist of Trump is clear. But the rules,
So far as I can yet tell, remain inscrutable.

Spoleto is nestled comfortably
In the foothills of the Apennines,
A range of mountains consisting
Of three distinct smaller chains
Running the full length of Italy
From the northwest in the Alps
To the southeast at the sea.

Beyond that basic orientation,
I’m still hunting for a data set
To mine. My kingdom for a map,
Topography revealed, of Umbria!
Where tunnels, dug through stone,
Pass between neighbors and home
As if they will go on without end.

Act I, scene 1: The setup

The night of the parents meeting on “The New Math,” back in the mid-60s, the guinea pigs stayed home: uninvited. So I cannot recall the dialogue verbatim. Yet the way my father always retold the tale, one remarkable line stood out: “If you’re planning to help your children with their homework, then start studying from Day 1. Otherwise, you’re toast….”

Now, I couldn’t actually swear to it. Yet I seem to have a vague recollection that the approach to our French Instruction in Junior High had a similar pedigree: with a fancy name and a distinct history that set it apart from old-school ways. (With a bit of research, I should be able to fill in the _____________ here.

Already, the term “Audio-Lingual” seems to be making its way from off-site storage into my central processing unit. Before I plug it into a Google search, though, one thing is certain: I can remember the dialogue from “The Library Trip” as if it were yesterday.)

Jean: Dis donc, ou est la bibliotheque?
Paul: C’est tout droit. Tu y vas tout suite?
Jean: Oui, il faut que j’aille chercher un livre.
Paul: J’y vais aussi.

Further research, no doubt, will cast the method in a favorable or unflattering light. Yet for now, as we approach La Cioccolateria desiring to greet Grazia with a warmth sufficient to our continuously developing affection, I dearly wish that my Italian textbook had a “Reunion” Scene with enough lines, sufficiently memorable, to surf the shoals of unwanted silence.

L’attestato:
Aka, proof on the roof:

That would be a shower
Of hail out there
On the terrazzo.

First, a singular cat
Who showed up at
Our open doorway
While we napped.

Later, a herd of cats
Who showed up at
The feeding trough
While we walked.