Dictionary.com’s word of the year is ‘6-7.’ But is it even a word and what does it mean?

Go ahead and roll your eyes. Shrug your shoulders. Or maybe just juggle your hands in the air.

Dictionary.com's word of the year isn't even really a word. It's the viral term “6-7” that kids and teenagers can't stop repeating and laughing about and parents and teachers can't make any sense of.

The word — if you can call it that — exploded in popularity over the summer. It's more of an inside joke with an unclear meaning, driven by social media.

Dictionary.com says its annual selection is a linguistic time capsule reflecting social trends and events. But the site admitted it too is a bit confused by “6-7.”

Most refused to listen then, more understand now

An open letter, to the children:

It’s late September in Manitoba and the leaves are turning golden. Autumns are beautiful on this land. I hope that, wherever you were, you were able to enjoy it. I hope that there were moments, and maybe more than moments, where you were able to leap face-down in the fallen leaves, to gather them to your nose, to breathe their earthy perfume of red and orange.

There is more orange in Winnipeg now. I wish you could see it. The signs and flags, dotted around the city, staked into lawns and hung over doors and posted as stickers in shop windows. That orange means people care about you and they remember. Even those who didn’t know you, because you lived your whole lives before we were born.

Some of those lives were long, some far too short, and most were somewhere in the middle. Some found joy, whether in spite or because of everything that happened. Some were imprisoned by the pain, haunted by the memories and the grief for what was taken away. There, too, perhaps most were somewhere in the middle.

Hard pass. Cold brew. Dad bod. Merriam-Webster adds over 5,000 words to ‘Collegiate’ dictionary

NEW YORK (AP) — Word nerd alert: Merriam-Webster announced Thursday it has taken the rare step of fully revising and reimagining one of its most popular dictionaries with a fresh edition that adds over 5,000 new words, including “petrichor,” “teraflop,” “dumbphone” and “ghost kitchen.”

The 12th edition of “Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary” comes 22 years after the book's last hard-copy update and amid declining U.S. sales for analog dictionaries overall, according to Circana BookScan. It will be released Nov. 18, with preorders now available.

Petrichor, by the way, is a pleasant odor after a rainfall following a warm, dry period. Teraflop is a unit of measure for calculating the speed of a computer. Dumbphones are just that, mobile devices we used before the smartphone revolution. And ghost kitchens, which came into their own during the pandemic, are commercial spaces for hire.

Other additions: “cold brew,” “farm-to-table,” “rizz,” “dad bod,” “hard pass,” “adulting” and “cancel culture.” There's also “beast mode,” “dashcam,” “doomscroll,”“WFH” and “side-eye.”

‘Love Island’ revives conversation about racial bias and misogynoir in dating

It used to be that dating was as simple as deciding between dinner, a trip to the movies or an arcade. Now, understanding the dating scene has become intermingled with smartphones, matchmaking apps and one’s ability to navigate thorny social issues like racial preference in a mate.

“Love Island,” a widely popular international reality television franchise, is emblematic of the complexities of modern dating. It has also sparked heated discussions among fans about the desirability of Black women and darker-complexioned people both on and off air.

The show, which aired the finale of the seventh season of its U.S. version Sunday and is airing the 12th season of its U.K. version, casts conventionally attractive “islanders” who are generally in their early to late 20s for a six- to eight-week stay in a luxury villa. Men and women compete for long-lasting relationships and a cash prize.

But as the show’s daters face challenges meant to test their bonds, as well as elimination by villa mates or by fans’ vote, notions of who is and isn’t desirable frequently come up for viewers and contestants alike. In the end, many fans are left with the perception that racial bias, colorism and misogyny are especially inescapable for Black women on reality dating shows.

Esports competitions motivating force for First Nations students, educators say

Esports clubs are allowing First Nations students to play against peers from other on-reserve schools without the costly and time-intensive trips required for basketball, hockey and other traditional extracurriculars.

For teacher Karl Hildebrandt, one of the many motivators to grow Manitoba’s online gaming community is giving youth in rural and remote areas more competitive opportunities to represent their schools.

“When you tell kids they can play video games at school, their eyes open and when you tell them you can compete against another school in the province, their mouths drop,” said Hildebrandt, director of rural and northern esports for the Manitoba School Esports Association.

A handful of members of the Manitoba First Nations School System, including Lake Manitoba, Brokenhead, Fox Lake, Roseau River and York Landing, have started developing cybersport programs. Some teachers have also started integrating online games into their everyday lessons.

Raising up books as social justice tools

Valerie Chelangat spends her days reading. She reads every day, mostly in the morning, sometimes before bed in the evenings and, if she has time to spare, in the hours between.

City company set to expand online tutoring presence after raising large equity stake

Winnipeg education technology company Hoot Reading has landed one of the first investments in a new venture capital fund from toy maker Spin Master.

Interest in Hoot Reading, which has developed an online tutoring platform whose mission is closing the gap in what’s been identified as a reading slump in the fourth grade, has grown significantly through the pandemic.

With school-age children home in various parts of North America at various times during the pandemic, parents have been forced to look for more tools to help with early childhood educational habits and Hoot Reading has caught on.

“We have had incredible traction during the pandemic,” said Maya Kotecha, co-founder and co-CEO of Hoot Reading. “It has been a tailwind for us.”

It’s a tough spell for official wizards

What with there being only two weeks until Halloween, I’m not sure this is a good time to fire your official wizard.

But that’s exactly what the New Zealand city of Christchurch did the other day when it dumped its official wizard from the payroll after 23 years of loyal service.

Ha ha ha! OK, I’m not kidding. Christchurch’s city council has ended its contract with the world’s only state-appointed wizard — “I’m going to have to ask you to turn in your wand!” — because it has decided to go in a more modern and diverse direction.

Anyone who has ever read a Harry Potter novel or seen one of the films is probably thinking: “Laying off your wizard just before All Hallow’s Eve can only end in tears, right?” Or as famed American columnist Dave Barry chirped in his blog: “Tomorrow’s headline: City council turned into frogs!”

When it come to Munsch stories, I’ll love them forever

When bedtime rolls around in our home and it’s time to pick a story (or three), there’s usually at least one Robert Munsch book in the mix.

We love Munsch stories. They’re fun, they’re usually silly, and they’re often central to some of my most favourite memories.

My mom read them to me as a kid, and now I read them to my own kids. Reciting the familiar words of the stories I grew up with feels like a rite of passage, as my kids echo them back to me. You can’t read a Munsch book without emphasizing the words and becoming the characters. That’s what makes his stories so special. It’s a whole production.

When my daughter was born, my mom gave a copy of Love You Forever, the sweet and sad story Munsch wrote years after he and his wife suffered the loss of two stillborn children. The lullaby in the book was one that he made up in his head for his lost babies — words he couldn’t say out loud.

Simplicity has kept Ticket to Ride steaming ahead

What defines a great board game? It is its theme, the accessibility and elegance of the rules, the design and production of the components, the depth of strategy, or the level of enjoyment one experiences when playing it? I believe it is a combination of all of these factors, and very few games are able to fulfil all of these criteria satisfactorily.

These are games that have staying power and that are loved not only by thousands, but by millions of people around the world. There is no doubt in my mind the game Ticket to Ride is one of them.

Ticket to Ride was created by the American designer Alan R. Moon and was first published in 2004 by the game publisher Days of Wonder. Since its inception it has sold more than eight million copies worldwide and has received dozens of international awards, including the much coveted “Spiel des Jahres” in Germany. It is one of the most popular modern board games in the world, an honour that can only be shared with other mammoth titles like Catan or Carcassone.

One of the reasons for its success is that it is deceptively simple. The game casts players as railroad developers, crossing North America in the age of steam. It is played on a large and colourfully illustrated map of the United States and southern Canada. It even features Winnipeg as one of its destination cities — something I am strangely proud of! In addition, it features a large deck of cards that depict train cars in different colours as well as a supply of mini plastic trains for each player in their colour. Most turns, a player can take one of two actions: They can either add cards to their hand from the card supply, or they can claim a route between two cities on the board. If they choose the latter, they trade in a set of cards of the same colour as the track and place their train tokens on that route. They then immediately receive points for that action. The longer the route they claim, the more points they get. The game ends when at least one player has two or fewer train tokens left. The player with the most points is declared winner after one final round. That’s pretty much the core of it. To add a little more depth, each player also receives another set of cards listing pairs of cities. At the end of the game, players receive bonus points for each card they were able to link up, but they lose points if they couldn’t. This adds a hidden point structure that can alter a player’s ranking at the very end.

For a quarter-century, McNally Robinson's Grant Park location has tapped into local book lover's desires

Twenty-five years ago this week, the staff of McNally Robinson were frantically preparing, bounding about their Grant Park store, a 20,000-square-foot behemoth that had yet to welcome its first customer.

The grand opening was near, and so was Margaret Atwood.

Atwood, if not the country’s most famous author then at least its second or third, was in Winnipeg to promote her latest book, Alias Grace, and to lend her authoritative support to what was to become the country’s largest independent bookstore, with a reading and book signing. A large crowd was anticipated.

There was a wild push to get ready for Oct. 15: staff were shifted from the company’s smaller locations, shipments were arriving in rapid succession. Shelves still had to be set up when Atwood arrived a few hours early to discuss the details of her reading, where she would be joined by a local literary icon, Carol Shields.

Listening after decades of hearing

It seemed that all of Canada glowed orange, in act or in mind. On the streets of Winnipeg, a sea of people marched in orange shirts, carrying orange signs. On social media, people shared text posts on orange backgrounds, urging more attention to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission's 94 calls to action.

Even city buses — though not orange — marked the day on their digital signs.

If you'd come to me 10 years ago and told me this week would happen, I wouldn't have believed you. If you'd told me that on the last day of September 2021, everything from a cocktail bar to a Botox clinic would close to remember the children and survivors of residential schools, I would have said you were telling me about a dream.

Not the kind we seek to create, but the kind that disintegrates upon waking.

Young railway enthusiast keeps busy posting original train videos

If you’re like us, the first thing that pops into your head when you’re nearing a rail crossing and hear the ding-ding-ding of a warning signal is, “Great... a train.” It’s the same with Evan McRae; only in his case it’s more like, “Great! A train!”

Heavy hearts, happy hearts

The marchers arrive at St. John's Park at almost exactly the minute predicted. They arrive in a great orange wave, all wearing shirts the same colour. They arrive led by the drum, and the riders on horseback, and the tendrils of smudge that curl over Main Street, cleansing the path to the park where the powwow is underway.

"Are we all going to fit into the park, guys?" one young woman gasps, laughing as she surveys the scene.

In a way they do, in a way they don't. For hours, the people flow into the park from all directions. They flow by the hundreds, and then the thousands. They flow until the fields show less green than orange, until lines for the porta-potties stretch into the dozens, until the whole park is alive with laughter and conversation.

The crowd looks like Manitoba. It contains faces of all ages, all races. Most of the people here are Indigenous, but on this day they are joined in solidarity by people of all nations; a movement, generations in the making, to call for a way forward, to call for action on reconciliation, to call for justice for Indigenous people.

Portraits of survivors, tales of strength

Since 2013, Sept. 30 has been known as Orange Shirt Day — to honour the children who survived Indian residential schools and to remember those who did not return home.

It is also now the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, which asks all Canadians to reflect upon relationships with Indigenous people, remember the harms of the past, and focus on ways to commit to healthy and positive growth throughout all communities today.

Here are six inspiring stories of Manitoba survivors of the residential school, day school, and child welfare systems:

Lake Winnipeg loaded with hidden treasures

“Let’s walk to a Lake Winnipeg island!” I exclaimed to Margie. “Forget about Mont-Saint-Michel over in France!”

Folks usually boat or wade the kilometer to Manitoba’s Elk Island but, with low water, I heard you can walk on a mostly dry sandbar.

Elk Island is a nine square-kilometer provincial park west of broad Traverse Bay and north of Sandy Bay, least known of Lake Winnipeg’s east-side beach communities. The Cree name is Misse Ministik, meaning big island. The park is designated for natural wilderness with no development, amenities or, apparently, elk.

We first found Sandy Bay last year, surprisingly discovering two red tractors with trailers - sitting in the lake. Are farmers prepping for the next flood? Growing watermelons?

Me, hate cute little squirrels? You must be nuts

I was standing in the backyard next to a very tall tree, sipping the first coffee of the day, trying to think of a topic for today’s column, when suddenly it hit me.

No, I was not struck by a sudden inspiration. I was bonked on the top of my head by a pine cone the size of a regulation volleyball.

In quick succession, several more potentially lethal pine cones plummeted from the sky and thudded into the ground near my feet.

“I can see you up there!” I shrieked, waving my fist at the sky. “You are not going to get away with this!”

More young critics weigh in on Summer Reading Challenge books

Another summer has come and gone, but before we also bid farewell to the Summer Reading Challenge for Kids, we’ve collected a second batch of reviews submitted by a crew of young critics who offered their thoughts on several books from our reading lists curated in conjunction with McNally Robinson Booksellers.

The Barren Grounds

By David A. Robertson

Swimming with local history

Get the sunscreen, we’re going to Patricia Beach!

In fact, we’re even going to get a history lesson on who Patricia was, and why the beach was named for her.

The story all revolves around a summer cabin that was built at Patricia Beach back about 1944, at that time all privately owned by George and Olive Allen, and which still exists and thrives today on the eastern shore of Lake Winnipeg.

Gotta’ admit, I knew nothing of the history of Patricia Beach until a few days ago when I received a very interesting e-mail from Catherine Lee, George and Olive’s granddaughter.

I meme, you meme: internet language brings us together

Sometimes, a public health campaign gets it right.

The Baltimore City Health Department has been earning praise for a new initiative that spreads accurate information about COVID-19 and vaccines online by using an internet-native language: memes.

“Ginger ale can’t cure COVID, Derrick!” reads one. “Mimosas with the girls? You’re still not vaxxed, Debra!” reads another. “What the FAQ is Delta? It’s new. It’s scary. But we’re here to break it down.”

Done wrong, a public health department using the language of the internet can smack a bit of, to evoke a popular meme, actor Steve Buscemi dressed up unconvincingly as a teenager and asking, “How do you do, fellow kids?” (To be fair, so does describing memes in print.)