A Wondrous Word

This has been a very busy week for me--I spent Monday with my little SuperPreschooler, yesterday chasing housing possibilities and doing some DIY around my friend's basement, where I'm staying right now, and today is about filling out endless paperwork for the government--so there's been virtually no reading. As I have no new words to offer for Wondrous Words Wednesday, I thought I would let you in on a little secret that you may not know about the very word "secret," as well as the word "secrete."

I discovered this fact several years ago, thanks to my obsessive Anglophile viewing habits, while watching the delightful little British comedy, The Thin Blue Line. Rowan Atkinson (of Mr. Bean fame) stars as the senior officer in a local British police constabulary, and in the episode entitled The Queen's Birthday Present, has the following exchange during a training exercise with one Constable Goody.

(Atkinson): Walk towards me. Oops, I do beg your pardon.
(Subordinate): - It's quite all right, sir.
Not all right for you, I fear, Goody, because I have relieved you of the contents of your pocket. In this case, a Mars bar. Constable Goody, a Mars bar is scarcely police equipment, is it?
- No, sir.
"No, sir," indeed, sir. Are there any other items of confectionery secreted about your person?
-No, sir. 
And by that you mean?
-I've got a Curly Wurly in my truncheon pouch.
In that case, get it out before it melts and soils the queen's trousers.
-It's not going to melt, is it? It's going to get eaten.
Great jangling jehovah, it is not! I've never heard of such a thing. I will not have my officers gorging themselves whilst on duty. Hand it over. Now sit down.

(Text courtesy of the site Springfield! Springfield!)

The implication of this dialog is as follows:

1. The word "secrete" has two completely unrelated meanings. The first is that we usually think of, i.e. an organism producing a chemical of some kind. For example, the human body secretes endorphins into the bloodstream when we experience pain, to help us cope with the discomfort. The second meaning, however, involves hiding something away in the hope that others won't discover it.

2. "Secret" is a very common noun--"I have a secret."--and we are all familiar with its adjectival form, as well, e.g. "We have a secret plan to give Bob a 40th birthday party." However, it also has a verb form, namely "to secrete," to hide something away. If you already knew that, forgive me for spending so much time on repeat information. But if you didn't, I think you'll agree with me that our wonderful language never ceases to surprise.

Happy wording!

Words Are My Friends

It's time again for one of the highlights of my week, the delightful vocabulary meme hosted by BermudaOnion. This week, my word discoveries come from an e-book I've been reading called Montfort: The Founder of Parliament, The Early Years. As the events upon which the novel--and its sequels--are based took place in the 13th century, this series will be a gold mine of new words, I'm sure.

(Unless otherwise indicated, I draw my definitions from Wiktionary, which I have found to be an invaluable resource since I started doing this meme.)

1. cantel--"the raised back of a saddle"--alternate spelling "cantle"

2. quintain--the author herself gave us a definition of this one later in the text: "a dummy mounted on a post with paddle arms outstretched." Wiktionary adds the following explanatory information: "a target to be tilted at in jousting, or otherwise used in target practice." If you've ever watched a film in which knights were training for a tournament, you've probably seen one of these; I had, but didn't know what they were called.

3. fibula--I'm sure we all know a definition for this word, as it is the name of one of the smaller bones in the human leg. However, it apparently has another definition, as well. "An ancient kind of brooch used to hold clothing together, similar in function to the modern safety pin."

Happy wording, everybody!

My Wondrous Word Dilemmas

As usual, I am joining in with BermudaOnion's delightful meme, Wondrous Word Wednesdays, although this week, I did not encounter any words with which I was previously unfamiliar in my reading. Since that is the case, I decided to immortalize for myself (and all others interested) the definitions of some words that I have seen or heard countless times, but never manage to remember what they actually mean. I hope you all find this list helpful, as well.

~obstreperous--

"1. attended by, or making, a loud and tumultuous noise; boisterous
2. stubbornly defiant; disobedient; resistant to authority or control, whether in a noisy manner or not"

I astonished myself by actually spelling this word correctly the first time I tried typing it into Wiktionary!

---

~abstemious--

"1. sparing in diet; refraining from a free use of food and strong drinks; temperate; abstinent; sparing in the indulgence of the appetite or passions.
2. sparingly used; used with temperance or moderation.
3. marked by, or spent in, abstinence... ."

This one was embarrassingly obvious, once I'd read the answer.

---

~laconic--

"1. using as few words as possible; pithy and concise."

Apparently, we have the Spartans to thank for this one, because "Laconia was the region inhabited by and ruled by the Spartans, who were known for their brevity in speech" and their pared down version of pretty much everything in life.

Happy reading, and carry on wording!

Return to Wondrous Words

Ah, my fellow word-lovers, it is so good to be returning to some of my favorite memes--in other words, to be fully engaged in blogging again--and one of my absolute favorites since I first discovered it a couple of years ago is "Wondrous Words Wednesday". Together, we celebrate new words we come across each week, whether we've never seen them before, have seen them but do not know their definitions, or are simply unsure of our understanding of them. In this week's entry, I happen to have one of each.

Brand New to Me:
1. trigram/hexagram--these are the names of the symbols around which the Chinese classic, the I Ching, centers, and upon which its pearls of wisdom are based. A trigram is so called because it is composed of three lines, while a hexagram consists of six. I decided to do some research on this work when I spotted a copy in the library earlier in the week, and it has proven quite fascinating.

Seen But Not Previously Known:
2. Invidious--"likely to arouse or incur resentment or anger in others," so says Google. I came across this one in an episode of the British panel show, QI. Thank you, Stephen Fry.

Known But I was not Sure if I was Correct:
3. Autochthonous--Merriam Webster Online defines this term as "formed or originating in the place where found," and Google adds that this something or someone "indigenous rather than descended from migrants or colonists." I was on the right track, but didn't have a clear picture of this meaning until I checked into it further. This one came from the introduction of the translation of the I Ching I've been reading.

Stopping By Quickly on a Quiet Morning

(with apologies to Robert Frost)

Oh, I've been too long absent from Wondrous Words Wednesdays!  An absolutely delightful meme, that fell by the wayside, I'm afraid, in the midst of my life's craziness, and I am determined to return to it faithfully, with renewed verve.  Today's post is just a brief pit stop, with only one interesting word to share, but there will be MANY others next week, as those of you who've read my "Word" posts in times past can attest.  This week, I have the following for you.

-obloquy--Did you even know that English HAD a one-word term for verbal abuse, and for the attendant state of shame in which its long-term sufferers must live?  Neither did I until yesterday.  I encountered this one in The Coming of the Third Reich by Richard J. Evans, so I don't think it requires much imagination to figure out where he was going with that one, who the perpetrators or the victims of said abuse were.  It's a fascinating book, if very somber.

Anyway, happy word spelunking, fellow readers!

Positronic Words

I have been absent from Wondrous Words Wednesday for a couple of weeks, and I must admit, I missed all of you and your weird and wonderful words.  Honestly, I was in a bit of a reading slump there for a week or two, and only undertook to read one YA novel that really didn't contain any words that challenged me, hence my brief vanishing act.  But, I found an unexpected source this week in a Star Trek novel, of all places!  See if you knew these before I defined them for you; they were certainly new to me.

1.  integument--basically, whatever protects the outside: a shell, skin, or fur on an animate creature, the shell of an egg, or the surface of a plant.

2.  rictus--The sort of creepy, awful, seeming smile that people have on their face when their in the last death throes of something like the nastier poisons.  Ergo, it can also be a painfully, horribly fake smile.  I believe "grimace" would also work here.

3.  brio--pretty much this is just another way of saying gusto.

So, there you go.  Happy word hunting!

Words I Got for Christmas

You can always rely on Dickens for some extraordinary words, and since I just finished reading The Cricket on the Hearth, my third and final Dickens Christmas Book for the 2011 holiday season, all of my words for Wondrous Words Wednesday this week will be courtesy of good old Charles.

1.  water-butt: Sounds a bit rude, but it's just a rain barrel.

2.  pattens: These are basically the rest of northwestern Europe's version of the Dutch wooden shoes.  They don't cover your feet particularly well; instead, they are platform shoes, keeping your feet above the mud.

3.  pertinacious: This ACTUALLY means what I USED to think "pernicious" meant, i.e. stubborn.

4.  fingerpost: I didn't know there was a specific term for those old-fashioned wooden mile marker posts that used to sit in major intersections, and still inhabit some more rural intersections.  But there is, and this is it.

5.  gaiters: Basically a larger type of spats.  These protect not just the shoes themselves, but run a fair way up the lower portion of each trouser leg.  I'd heard this word many times, and had a feeling it was a garment, but I couldn't have told you what type.

Happy holiday reading!

Words Gone Wonky

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the latest edition of Wondrous Words Wednesday here in Eclectic Land.  Today's words are taken from a biography of General William Tecumseh Sherman, a review of which will be appearing here shortly.  In the meantime, on to the verbiage.

debouche--"to enter into battle"  (What would I do without Wiktionary?)

farrago--is basically a synonym for "hodgepodge".  I had heard and seen this word before, but really had no idea what it meant.

metier--(Imagine an accent aigu over the first 'e' in this word, since I don't know how to put one there in Blogger.)  And this is where things went wonky.  The co-authors of the Sherman biography used this word twice, and the first time, they used it correctly and I learned a new word.  It's pretty much the word for a Platonic concept--your calling in life, what you were born and meant to do.  The second time they used it, however, they obviously did so without editorial supervision, because the word they meant to use in that particular sentence was "mettle".  That's okay, though, because they did eventually use "mettle"--unfortunately, that time, they meant "meddle".  It was a long slog through that book, believe me.

Pharaonic Words

This Wondrous Words Wednesday post was supposed to go up SO MUCH EARLIER in the day.  Sorry, all; I got wrapped up in the unbelievable drama of watching police herd American citizens through the streets of LA last night, and time got completely away from me.

ANYWAY, all my words today come from the Egyptological tome Red Land, Black Land, by famous Egyptologist and novelist Barbara Mertz, of the beloved nom de plume Elizabeth Peters.  Ever read an Amelia Peabody mystery?  If not, you simply MUST; they're fabulous.  All my words come from only one book this time--which is unusual for me--because I am trying desperately to meet the requirements of my own "Read Your OWN Library!" challenge and finish it before midnight tonight.  At this particular moment, my hopes are not that high, but Goonies never say die!

1.  corbel--Basically: ever seen a shelf with a bracket built into the bottom of it to hold it up?  The bracket piece underneath is a corbel.

2.  serdab--I'm happy to finally know what the name for this is, since I've seen pictures of them many times, and even saw a real one in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  (I LOVE the MET!!)  In Old Kingdom ancient Egypt, tombs contained a walled-up room with a tiny viewing window built into it, through which one could see a statue of the deceased.  That room is called a serdab.

3.  shank's mare--Had any of you ever heard of this before?!  It was certainly a new one for me.  All it means is to walk, the implication being that you're having to travel a long way on foot.  "Some places could only be reached by water, and boats were a lot more comfortable than donkey back or shank's mare."

4.  exogamy--I had never encountered this term, but it made perfect etymological sense once I saw it.  An exogamous marriage is basically just a "mixed" marriage--marrying outside one's own race, religion, tribe, whatever you parents told you never to do and thereby made a whole bunch of new people groups look like a really attractive place to find a mate.

5.  soi-disant--This one is clearly French.  It means "self-styled," as in, to give oneself a nickname, epithet or title.

6.  peripteral--Lots of architectural terms in this book.  This one means, according to Wiktionary, "surrounded by a single row of columns."

7.  clerestory--More architecture.  Clearly, this one sounds like it's related to "cloister," at least to me.  "[T]he upper part of a wall containing windows to let in natural light to a building, especially in the nave, transept and choir of a church or cathedral".

So, there are my words for the week.  And I DID get the book finished!  (I always forget to check how much of the remaining content is index and bibliography when I'm reading an e-book.)

And God Bless Us, Every Word

Another Wondrous Words Wednesday is upon us--which in this case means that another Thursday is almost here, and this particular Thursday will be Thanksgiving!  I usually try to hold off on all references to Christmas until the day after Thanksgiving, but with a SuperToddler in the house who is super-psyched for Christmas, aided and abetted by her grandmother, I have given up all pretense, and we are happily watching Christmas movies on DVD.  A LOT.  Besides, with the Christmas Spirit Reading Challenge in full swing, I'm neck deep into Dickens' Christmas books and loving every minute of it.

I'm also getting a profound verbal education from my first re-reading of A Christmas Carol in many years.  When I was younger, I just skipped over words I didn't know; looking back, I wonder now how I got any sense of a story from this book, since so many of the terms--though not new--have changed meaning so drastically that I'm looking them up as if it's the first time I ever encountered them.  I think you'll see what I mean as you read your way down the list.

1.  rime--a thin sheet of ice or hoarfrost over something, especially when the freezing occurred very rapidly.  This, of course, was a reference to Scrooge's "cold, cold heart," as it were.

2.  Union workhouse--Apparently, charitable provision for the poor in Dickensian England was regulated by what was called the New Poor Law, and that law created Poor Law Unions in parishes, under whose auspices workhouses were created to give shelter, food and jobs.  The workhouse got its awful reputation because they weren't exactly encouraging people to want to stay there if they were fit enough to do any other job on Earth.

3.  treadmill--Did YOU know that there were once mills powered by humans walking on, well, giant hamster wheels?  Because I did not know that, nor that such mills were the origin of our term for the modern piece of exercise equipment.

4.  link--See what I mean?  Of course, I know what a link is; in fact, I have a couple of meanings for it that would have been utter nonsense in Dickens' time.  However, to him, it was a torch.  How the English language does change!

5.  genius--Here we go again.  Before this was a mental wunderkind, it was a guardian spirit.

These last two I had encountered many times in my life, but had never actually looked them up to discover the precise meaning.  I just assumed a rough guess would suffice.  Both my guesses were wrong.

6.  misanthrope--I cannot BELIEVE that I never worked this one out based on simple etymology.  It means someone who hates human beings.  An apt description for pre-ghoul Scrooge if I ever heard one.

7.  fain--This actually means to enjoy or be pleased by.  I had a vague idea that it meant to be willing to do something, or to take an action out of simple necessity.  Nope.  Much more positive than that.

So there you have it, a feast of words from dear old Mr. Dickens.  I wish you and all yours a happy Thanksgiving.

Whacking Great Words

I just have to say, I love this weekly meme.  Since I discovered Wondrous Words Wednesdays hosted at Bermuda Onion, I find myself excited every time I come across a word throughout the week's reading that is new to me, or even one that I've heard but never bothered to look up before.  It adds a little extra zest of excitement to the reading I would be doing anyway.  So without further ado, to the words!

1.  distrait--"absent-minded, troubled, distracted", according to Wiktionary.  Sir Arthur Conan Doyle used this word at least three times in The Hound of the Baskervilles, and though it was clear from the context the general territory of mental distress we were in, I was glad when I finally looked it up and got it settled to my satisfaction EXACTLY what he was saying.

2.  ecarte--the name of a specific card game.  Wikipedia says it is similar to Euchre.

3.  pannikin--a drinking vessel or the beverage it contains.  I don't know why "cup" didn't suffice, but then this is Sherlock Holmes we're talking about.

The remainder of my words this week come from a book on Egyptology, hence the sudden shift in topics.

4.  puerperal fever--is apparently an infection of the uterus, and is usually contracted through childbirth.

5.  uxorious--So the Latin word for wife is uxor.  Who knew?  Anyway, where I come from, our synonym for this term is "hen-pecked."  Another phrase that describes the condition, of which Wiktionary helpfully reminded me, has to do with a man who is ruled by a certain female reproductive organ.

6.  marcel(led)--to put lots of intricate waves in something.  Apparently, the waves or ruffles for which two famous brands of potato chip are so well-known are actually marcel waves.

7.  parure--a lavish set of matching jewelry that could literally allow one to be draped from head to toe in pieces that were all coordinated together.  I'll take mine in sapphire and silver, please.

8.  lappet--It's easiest to explain this one with a visual aid.  No doubt you've seen this shimmering fellow before.

Photo courtesy of Aikon at nl.wikipedia

On his head, he's wearing the famous nemes headdress.  See the material hanging down on each shoulder?  Those are lappets.

Words for Victoria Regina

It is Wondrous Words Wednesday.  I do love this meme, I have to admit.  I just adore my native language, even if its spelling "system" resembles nothing so much as a drunken ramble through the vagaries of chaos theory.  Believe me, I do know all the historical reasons behind this; that doesn't change the fact that we have perhaps the least one-to-one phoneme/grapheme correspondence of any language spoken by humans.  (Bonus points for non-linguistics majors who can translate what I just said.  :>  Sorry; getting a degree in linguistics left me forever unable to speak like a normal, non-warped human being.)

ANYWAY, to bring myself back down to Earth with a decidedly humiliating *THUMP*, I have to confess that I had an embarrassing experience today.  A word I THOUGHT I'd known the definition of for years turned out to mean something completely different.  *Rolls eyes sheepishly at herself*

1.  ferrule--is NOT the stick used to discipline naughty school children of yesteryear, as I believed.  Rather, it is that metal endpiece on old-fashioned walking sticks that keeps gravel from biting into the wood.  It is also the band that clamps down and keeps all the bristles from falling out of paint brushes.  There are a few other, even less interesting uses, but those are the highlights.  This naturally segues into my next term.

2. "Penang lawyer"--I could tell from the context of Dr. Watson's sentence that this was some kind of cane, so Wiktionary wasn't terribly helpful in adding nothing to that knowledge but the type of wood from which it is made.  A picture would have been helpful.  Oh, well; never mind.

3.  dolichocephalic--Now THERE is a word you don't hear every day.  As a matter-of-fact, I should be rather astonished if I ever run across it again, except maybe in another Victorian or Edwardian mystery featuring a doctor.  According to Wiktionary, it literally means "long-headed," "having a head that is long from front to back."  Good luck working THAT into ordinary conversation!  Leave it to Holmes and Watson and their clients to come up with something like this.

My Word!

I have a feeling that everybody on the Wondrous Words Wednesday meme will be relieved when I switch from reading Sherlock Holmes to something else for a while; we've all got Victoriana fatigue.  But, for now, here's another short Holmesian data set.

1.  Lascar--"A lascar ... was a sailor or militiaman from the Indian Subcontinent or other countries east of the Cape of Good Hope, employed on European ships from the 16th century until the beginning of the 20th century" (thus spake Wikipedia).  (Behold Exhibit A)

2.  equinoctial--Obviously, this is just the adjectival form of "equinox".  To be honest, though, I never knew "equinox" HAD an adjectival form until I read The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.  So that was some useful information.

3.  vesta--These were matches, made from wood or wax, which beggars on the streets of London gave their benefactors if given a donation, so that they could avoid arrest for begging; no doubt, some of them also wished to keep their dignity intact and feel as if they were engaged in some form of honest trade.  I've known about the matchstick trade for years, but I did not know there was a separate term for them, nor did I know that they were ever made of wax.  Apparently, Vesta was also "the Roman goddess of hearth and home", so it seems logical that the term for the matches stems from this mythological figure.

Holmesian Words Wednesday

It's time for another installment of amazing words, and this week, all my words came from the Sherlock Holmes novel, The Sign of Four, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  Nobody beats Holmes for a delicious turn of phrase, and no genre can defeat the Victorian mystery when it comes to delectable words that have fallen into disuse, and are ripe for reviving.  Let's see if we can bring a few of them back from the dead (although I'm more than happy to let the racist ones remain forgotten).

-retort--Yeah, I know; you already know this one in both verb and noun forms.  But do you know it as that thing in the picture?! Clearly, the word retort leads a whole double life that many people these days know nothing about unless they're chemists.  (Sorry, it was just WAY simpler to show you the picture than to try to verbally concoct some kind of image of this in your minds.)

-carboy--Also known as a demijohn, the carboy is that bottle you've sometimes seen in old movies that seems to have a butt made of wicker.  The basketry into which the carboy is permanently nestled helps keep the corrosive liquid in the bottle from escaping.  (Don't ask me how; for something considered "corrosive," I'd prefer a couple of inches of good, solid steel, but what do I know.)

-lath--According to Wikipedia, this is "a thin, narrow strip of wood...or...metal."  It's used inside the walls of houses as a building material.

-slatternly--Good old English.  Why have only ONE word when you can also give that word five synonyms?  Slatternly is slovenly by any other name.

-wharfinger--"[A]rchaic term for a person who is the keeper or owner of a wharf," (again so sayeth Wikipedia).  Makes sense.  Sort of.

-Feringhee--OKAY, Star Trek fans, shall we all say this together, or pretend we don't notice?  "Feringhee?!  Ferengi!!"  Personally, I find it impossible that this could be just a coincidence, but either way, long before Gene Roddenberry was born, the Hindi word for "foreigner" was Feringhee, probably a derivative originally referring to the French.

-sepoy--An indigenous soldier who served under British officers--or the officers of some other imperialist power--in an Indian regiment.  Apparently, it comes from the Persian word for "army".

That's my bundle of useless information for the day.  Happy word spelunking!

Photo by Dave Bunnell

Words, Words, Words

My goodness, I'm overflowing with fascinating words today!  I finished The Know-It-All between last week's post and this one, and it's always a good source of new vocabulary.  The surprise source this week was the sweet little book called Betsy-Tacy and Tib, which contained a number of new words for me just because they've passed out of common use.  Let us dive into the sea of loquacity,* shall we?

*I learned this one years ago from The Pickwick Papers; it just means wordy or talkative.

1.  sybaritic--Apparently, Sybaris was an ancient Greek city inhabited entirely by people with a reputation throughout the ancient world for their abandoned self-indulgence.  If the rest of the ancient Greeks (not counting the Spartans, of course) thought they took things a bit too far, I can only imagine what a Friday night was like in Sybaris!

2.  limnologist--Someone who makes a career out of studying lakes.  Did you know this job existed?  I guess I sort of did, but I never thought about what the title for it would be.

3.  selenographist--Someone who makes a career out of studying/mapping the moon.  Don't you think this would have been a frustrating job to have before the age of space flight?

4.  claque--This was a laugh track before the invention of sound recording.  People were paid to go to the theater and make the appropriate sounds--clapping, laughter, tears--at the appropriate points in the performance, to encourage those around them to do the same.

5.  axilla--Believe it or not, this is the medical term for "armpit."

6.  erythrocyte--"Red blood cell" to people who just need extra syllables in their lives--like doctors.

7.  insertion--We all know what this means, right?  Except it also has another meaning I'd never heard of.  It refers to decorations worked into a garment, of which Betsy, Tacy, and Tib were very proud.








8.  saleratus--Baking soda.  End of bulletin.

The things we learn on Wondrous Words Wednesdays!

Celebrating Words

I truly love my native language.  Despite all its foibles--which I have been known to deplore loudly and often--and its many quirks and oddities, English sometimes seems to be the only subject I have ever studied that I genuinely, inherently and instinctively understand.  We've been through a great deal together, my native language and I, but it never ceases to offer me new surprises.  I certainly got a few this week.  So, once again, we observe Wondrous Words Wednesday, and discuss the hidden gems in "the tongue that Shakespeare spake" (Rumpole taught me to love Wordsworth with phrases like that one).

morganatic--A morganatic marriage is one which takes place between someone of noble or exalted birth and a spouse who is below their station.  This would not have surprised me at all if I'd stumbled across it in a historical novel or a history of medieval Europe.  I wasn't expecting to find it in a description of HRH Prince Charles' 2005 marriage to Camilla Parker Bowles, now HRH Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall.  If you've read much of this blog, you know I'm a pretty big fan of the royal family, and certainly not in favor of throwing out traditions without good reason.  But good grief!  In 2005!  We are actually still discussing people marrying below their station in the 21st century.  What utter nonsense.

levirate--I've known this word for a long time; I didn't grow up the daughter of a Pentecostal preacher for nothing.  "Levirate marriage" is the name for the type of marriage mandated in the Old Testament if a man should die without producing any children.  The dead man's brother was required to marry his widow until an heir was finally produced, even if the widow had to work her way through several brothers in order to have a child.  What I didn't know was the etymology of the word.  Until yesterday, I had asssumed that "levirate" was the Anglicized form of some Hebrew or Aramaic term, probably having something to do with the priestly line of Levi.  Yeah.  Apparently, "levir" is the Latin word for "brother-in-law."  Overthink much there, Jennifer?

trepanning--Refers to a nasty ancient custom in which physicians drilled holes in a patient's skull to allow evil spirits to escape and hopefully heal whatever was killing him or her.  I have to assume that at least some of the time, this type of treatment was warranted, because of pressure on the brain.  Our ancient ancestors stumbled on the right answer more often than we give them credit for.  Still, I'm pretty sure this practice killed many more people than it ever helped, like the leaches and bleeding pans that lasted far longer than they ever should have done.

Well, that's my mixed bag of weirdness for this week.  I don't know that any of them are wondrous, but at least they're entertaining in a macabre sort of way!

Wondrous Words Wednesday

Now see, here is one of the very reasons why I love blogging.  On the same day that I launch the first reading challenge I've ever hosted, I also stumble upon someone else's weekly meme of which I just HAVE to be a part.  Blogging really is the gift that keeps on giving, (and not in that sarcastic, snarky way that we talk about things like our children spilling glitter on the floor)!  I digress.

OK, wondrous words.  Every Wednesday, BermudaOnion hosts a meme in which we report on words we've encountered in the past week's reading that we'd never known before.  This week, I have two, and they're doozies, especially if you're a grammar freak.  I encountered them in The Know-It-All by A.J. Jacobs.

(1)  meronym--the middle point between two opposites, e.g. the meronym of "hate" and "love" might be said to be "indifference".

(2) capitonym--a word which is pronounced differently and has a different meaning if the first letter is capitalized, such as "august" and "August."

I'm not sure that knowing those two words will be of great use to me, since I've been a fluent user of the English language since early childhood and got along all right without them, but I do find the concept of the meronym a fascinating one.  Perhaps they should teach that one in schools and on Sesame Street!