Recently, while playing our morning word games, Mrs. Word Guy solved the puzzle with the correct five-letter word, which was “creek.” After she told me what her answer was I typed “creak” into the five empty boxes on my screen only to be electronically scolded for having put in the wrong response.

After the whole thing was cleared up, I naturally started to think about homophones, as would any “normal” word wonk, right? I soon found myself mulling over the many pairs of words whose spellings vary by only a letter or two yet have the same pronunciation.

To begin with, I thought to myself, I’d rather be on an “isle” (especially a warm, tropical one at this point) than in a supermarket “aisle.” “I’ll” leave it at that.

Then there’s “axle” — a shaft on which a wheel revolves. But in figure skating an “axel” is a jump named after Norwegian skater Axel Rudolph Paulser (1885-1938).

Since “augur” is an indication of what will happen, it does not augur well if you use an “auger” (a corkscrew-shaped hand tool for boring holes) to drill through the hull of your boat.

A “bibb” is a plumbing fixture, usually an outdoor faucet, while a “bib” is what you put on before digging into your lobster dinner. By the way, “Bib” is also the nickname of Bibendum, the Michelin Man, whose name comes from “nunc est bibendum,” Latin for “now is the time to drink,” because his tires reportedly drink up the bumps in the road.

“Braise” is to cook by browning briefly, and then in a covered pot. “Braze,” on the other hand, means to join two pieces of metal with solder.

The paper used to make your upcoming 2025 wall “calendar” was finished using a “calender” (a machine that presses or glazes cloth or paper).

A member of the city “council” offered her “counsel” to a local businessman.

The next time you’re golfing, your “caddy” might haul your bag around on a “caddie,” that wheeled device for moving around heavy objects.

If you fail to “defuse” (to render a bomb harmless or to make a situation less tense) that bomb in your office in time, the things in your office will certainly become “diffuse” (spread or become scattered; lacking organization, especially in writing or speech).

A state of “discomfit” (to confuse, frustrate or embarrass) almost always causes “discomfort” (slight pain, or to make someone uncomfortable) for those undergoing stress. (Ok, you purists out there: Yes, you do pronounce the two words slightly differently. But if you pronounce “discomfort” like a true Mainah, you can’t tell the difference, ayuh?)

You (the second-person pronoun, either singular or plural) ought to know that a “ewe” is a mature female sheep, not to be confused with a generally wooly shrub called a “yew.” (Not to be confused with “ew,” which is pronounced a little differently and the sound my wife makes every time she picks up my socks.)

There was no need to “indict” (to charge or accuse of a crime) the crime writer who was only trying to “indite” (write or compose) his latest literary work.

Then there’s “lead,” the heavy metal, and “led,” the past tense of the other “lead” (pronounced “leed,” as in to guide someone or something). Which explains why the founders of the band Led Zeppelin reportedly chose the spelling of their band’s name: so we “thick Americans” would know how to pronounce it.

If you “loathe” (hate) doing something you would probably be “loath” (reluctant) to do it.

And while a “lama” is a spiritual leader in Tibetan Buddhism, a “llama” is an animal and the title character of Anna Dewdney’s classic 2005 children’s book “Llama Llama Red Pajama” — which reminds me that it’s almost naptime. More homophones in the future, once I wrest some rest from the Sandman.

Jim Witherell of Lewiston is a writer and lover of words whose work includes “L.L. Bean: The Man and His Company” and “Ed Muskie: Made in Maine.” He can be reached at [email protected].