Happy Birthday, Spud

Spud is nineteen today.  Happy birthday, my little potato cake.

He got there despite all the roasting I’ve given him, half-baked parent that I am. To be fair, though, I never beet him; and I yam a loving mother to my sweet potato.

He’s a chip off the old block because he’s a Golden Wonder to me, and never grates my nerves, fries my beans or sets me boiling.  I’ve done my best to raise a good crop and he hasn’t given me any hasselback, despite the many downright hash browns I’ve made.  We’ve had a lot of fun and latke, that’s for sure; though I sometimes leave him steaming, but that’s no skin off my nose.  Still, I don’t want to be peeling him off the walls.  He is my King Edward, after all; and he who pays the Maris Piper calls the tune.

Well, I’d better go – I hear him gnocching but he can’t come in because I’m typing this.  I don’t want him stewing; that will leave me having to sauté him out and it is his birthday.

Happy birthday, my darling little tater tot.  Here’s a birthday mashup for you:

 

Something To Keep You Going

The painting is done but it’s taking as long to move in my stuff, arrange my books and pictures and so on as it took to decorate.  By way of apology for my continued absence, here’s a repost that I thought you might enjoy.

My First Mondegreen

A mondegreen is a mishearing of a phrase.  It was so named by Sylvia Wright, who misheard a line in a poem.  From Wikipedia:

In the essay, Wright described how, as a young girl, she misheard the last line of the first stanza from the 17th-century ballad “The Bonny Earl O’Moray“. She wrote:

 When I was a child, my mother used to read aloud to me from “Percy’s Reliques“, and one of my favorite poems began, as I remember:

 

Ye Highlands and ye Lowlands,
Oh, where hae ye been?
They hae slain the Earl O’ Moray,
And Lady Mondegreen. 

 The actual fourth line is “And laid him on the green”. Wright explained the need for a new term:

The point about what I shall hereafter call mondegreens, since no one else has thought up a word for them, is that they are better than the original.

 

Other examples Wright suggested are:

• Surely Good Mrs. Murphy shall follow me all the days of my life (“Surely goodness and mercy…” from Psalm 23)
• The wild, strange battle cry “Haffely, Gaffely, Gaffely, Gonward.” (“Half a league, half a league, / Half a league onward,” from “The Charge of the Light Brigade“)

I experienced my first mondegreen as a child, courtesy of Kenny Rogers’ song, Lucille:

You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille,
With four hundred children and a crop in the field.

I thought, ‘Four hundred children?  No wonder she left him.’  The line is actually,With four hungry children.

My second mondegreen came from the carol, Good King Wenceslas:

Good King Wensess last had gout

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Here are a few more you might find amusing:

• From: I’ve Had the Time of My Life – Now I’ve had a time with your wife
• From: Ticket To Ride – She’s got a chicken to fry
• From: Abracadabra – Abra Abra Cadabra… I wanna freak out and stab ya
• From: The Christmas Song – Jeff’s nuts roasting on an open fire, check for snipping at your nose
• From God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen – Get dressed ye married gentlemen, let nothing through this May

You’ll find more here http://www.snopes.com/holidays/christmas/humor/mondegreens.asp and here http://www.kissthisguy.com/

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How about you?  Have you got any mondegreens to share?

Googling Myself

It’s not that I’m vain, or anything, but I do occasionally Google my name (okay, I am vain; but can you blame me with this hair?).  At least I don’t check to see if I’ve got a Wikipedia page – no, really, I don’t, honest…

I have to Goggle myself when I’m submitting poems, because so many editors exclude poems already published online, even if it was on my now defunct poetry blogs which can no longer be accessed.

I Gaggled four poems and my name this morning and I was disappointed to find one of them in the 2010 comments section of a poetry blog, which means I can’t use it.  

The Haggle brought up a pleasant surprise, however – which isn’t always a given when you Giggle yourself; all I’m going to say is tea bags/washing line/shame…. Fortunately, I’m such a prolific blogger that the embarrassing photo is hidden way down in my Boggle listing.  

I discovered that a poem published by English Pen last year in their Dictionary of Made-Up Words was featured on their website earlier this year, as part of an ongoing promotion of the book.  I didn’t know it was there.  I’m chuffed!

Even better – it was retweeted!  It’s nice to be twit.

You may say it was coincidence, but I think it’s strange that I didn’t come across this poem until I had my hair cut.  I’m like an anti-Samson: all of my power was consumed by my long hair; now it’s short, I’m discovering my work in the ether and being invited to take part in poetry events which may or may not come off so I can’t say anything at the moment…except that the invites were issued after the haircut…

So, do you Wriggle yourself?  Or are you afraid to discover dirty little secrets of yours hiding out there in the ether?  Are there photos of you drunk at a party? Taking an illicit beach day from work?  Wearing flares?

I’ll find out, you know, when I Ogle you.

Six Correct Words Saturday

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Last night, I dreamed about grammar.

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I need to find a life.  Or at least a hobby.

Images from Grammarly’s Facebook page.

Joke 792

English Words With Quirky Logic

• There is no egg in eggplant, nor ham in hamburger.
  

  Guinea Pig baby. About 8 hours old. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

• Have you noticed that there is neither apple nor pine in pineapple?
• English muffins weren’t invented in England.
• French fries do not originate in France.
• A guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
• There are no hogs in Hogmanay.
• Why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham?
• You cannot buy boots in Boots. You cannot buy threshers in Threshers.  The Superdrug chain is a big disappointment.
• Quicksand only works slowly
• If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth?
• If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught?
• If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
• Sweetmeats are sweets while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat.

From Will & Guy.

Talk, Task & Just Too Weird

[victorian child care] (Photo credit: RHiNO NEAL)

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A conversation after the zugzwang of yesterday’s post:

Me [puzzled and a little distressed]: I wrote a really lovely post for Tory Boy’s birthday.  It was supposed to be funny, but it was nice instead.

Hub [genuinely sympathetic]: Aw, never mind, sweetie.

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Less words… (Photo credit: shtikl)

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Today is the last day of my 26 words in 26 posts challenge.  

I succeeded!

If by ‘succeeded’ I mean, ‘Didn’t include joke posts and there was one day when I forgot to include a new word.’

I hope you enjoyed learning 26 new words and their meanings which, if you are anything like me, you will immediately have forgotten.

To refresh your memory, here are the last three words of the challenge:

Xu: an aluminum* coin of Vietnam, the 100th part of a dong.

*aluminium, if you speak English.

Ylem: the original substance of the universe from which all matter is said to be derived.  So that’s where babies come from…

Zugzwang: a position in which one player can move only with loss or severe disadvantage i.e. there’s no getting around it – yesterday’s post was bad for my image.

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E-collar (Photo credit: sean94110)

Today’s WordPress prompt:

In the DC comics universe, a planet called “Htrae” (“Earth” spelled backwards) is populated with bizarre versions of superheroes. A Seinfeld episode made the idea of this Bizarro World popular, where the characters encountered their opposite selves.

Craft a scene in which you meet an opposite version of yourself — or a story in a bizarre, backwards world.

Welcome, welcome, Laughing Housewife, to our WordPress Prompters’ office. We love your responses to our prompts and enjoy the way you poke fun at us, without mercy or regard for your blog’s safety.

Thank you, Dear WordPress Prompter, I replied; I came to inform you, however, that I regret my past arrows through your hearts and have decided to cease tormenting yo…

I’m sorry, dear readers: some worlds are so bizarre that my head explodes even thinking about it.

 

Can I Have A Word?

Neologism generator (Photo credit: Peter Forret)

Yesterday’s word was mundify: to cleanse, deterge (yes, that is a real word), purge or purify.  In other words, what I need to do after watching the Jeremy Kyle or Jerry Springer shows.

Try as I might, I couldn’t fit today’s word into a reblog about household tips, so I have given it a post of its own:

NEOTERISM

Because I don’t like you coming here and not working, I’m going to give you a task.

If you’ve been around here a while, you may have noticed I play fast and loose with the English language, coining new words for convenience and then never using them again.

There is one word, however, which I invented and which I continue to use, in the hope that one day I will come across it somewhere at random, entirely unrelated to me, and know that I am the mother of a successful neologism.

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My word is:

TECHNEPTITUDE

or

TECHNEPT

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To be inept in the use of modern technology; one who is inept in the use of modern technology (specifically, her new mobile phone, eighteen months old, and of which she realised only recently, despite using it every day, that it was a touch screen). 

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“Technology has exceeded our humanity” (Photo credit: Toban B.)

Here is your task:

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Tell me what word you have invented, with its definition and a sentence demonstrating its use.*

If you haven’t invented a word, now’s your chance!

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My sentence:

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I can’t turn this blasted phone on [sounds of smashing pink technology].  I am such a [insert swear word of choice; I don’t, so I can’t.  More work for you] technept!

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A Word In Your Shell-Like*

*For those who don’t know British idioms, ‘shell-like’ refers to the ear.  Some Brits are too lazy to finish their sentences with a three-letter word.

Words have a power all their own (Photo credit: Lynne Hand)

Today’s post is about words.

One

One of my 101/1001 challenges is to find 26 words – one for each letter of the alphabet – which are new to me; and then to use them in 26 consecutive posts (jokes excluded).  You may find me a little ambisinister in the execution, but that’s just the way it goes.  See if you can guess what today’s word is.

Words (Photo credit: sirwiseowl) Or in your online dictionary…

Two

The reason today’s post is about words is that I suddenly find myself unable to pronounce ‘laptop’.  I keep saying ‘loptop’.  I have no idea why, though I suspect it may be a divine slap on the wrist for last week’s post in which I wrote:

• If you mispronounce a word in my presence, I will not hear anything you say after that.

The Hub can’t pronounce ‘hilarious’ without falling over his tongue and my friend told me this morning she can’t pronounce ‘proselytise’ (although, let’s be honest – who can?).

What words can you not pronounce?

Three

This is for the writers amongst you, but more on that later.

I just looked up among/amongst because I was pretty sure I had used it correctly but I wanted to know the difference.  Turns out I’m ‘quaint’.

Maeve Maddox at Daily Writing Tips says:

I first heard amongst used when I went to live in England. To my ear it sounds quaint and very “British.”  I especially like it in the expression “to put the cat amongst the pigeons.”

She goes on to asseverate:

If there ever was a difference between the two words, it is lost now […] For American speakers of English, the question is irrelevant. Americans say among.

I hope that British speakers will continue to use amongst whenever they feel like it.

Thank you, Maeve.  We will. 🙂

So this is what he learned at that internet marketing seminar (Photo credit: Graela)

Four

This is for the writers amongst you, but you have to live in Britain and use the word ‘amongst’ without blushing:

Arvon is running a competition; the prize is a free residential course.  

Click this link and go to page 130 of the brochure for details.

Five

Time for an experiment: I included the cartoon because it amused me, but I think I’m going to try adding ‘boobies’ to my tags to see if there’s any truth in its assertion.  I’ll let you know if it works.  

Six

That’s it.  I’ve run out of words.

Joke 676

How to Write Good

Writing (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

1. Avoid alliteration. Always.

2. Never use a long word when a diminutive one will do.

3. Employ the vernacular.

4. Eschew ampersands & abbreviations, etc.

5. Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are unnecessary.

6. Remember to never split an infinitive.

7. Contractions aren’t necessary.

8. Foreign words and phrases are not apropos.

9. One should never generalize.

10. Eliminate quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “I hate quotations. Tell me what you know.”

11. Comparisons are as bad as cliches.

12. Don’t be redundant; don’t use more words than necessary; it’s highly superfluous.

13. Be more or less specific.

14. Understatement is always best.

15. One-word sentences? Eliminate.

16. Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.

17. The passive voice is to be avoided.

18. Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.

19. Even if a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.

20. Who needs rhetorical questions?

21. Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.

22. Don’t never use a double negation.

23. capitalize every sentence and remember always end it with point

24. Do not put statements in the negative form.

25. Verbs have to agree with their subjects.

26. Proofread carefully to see if you words out.

27. If you reread your work, you can find on rereading a great deal of repetition can be avoided by rereading and editing.

28. A writer must not shift your point of view.

29. And don’t start a sentence with a conjunction. (Remember, too, a preposition is a terrible word to end a sentence with.)

30. Don’t overuse exclamation marks!!

31. Place pronouns as close as possible, especially in long sentences, as of 10 or more words, to the irantecedents.

32. Writing carefully, dangling participles must be avoided.

33. If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is.

34. Take the bull by the hand and avoid mixing metaphors.

35. Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky.

36. Everyone should be careful to use a singular pronoun with singular nouns in their writing.

37. Always pick on the correct idiom.

38. The adverb always follows the verb.

39. Last but not least, avoid cliches like the plague; They’re old hat; seek viable alternatives.

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From jokesaboutwriting.

This Post Is Quite Good

I get about fifty cartoons in my inbox each morning; I like to start my day laughing.  Besides, it gives me something to do in the dead time when I’m saving posts.

Most of the cartoons are American and sometimes I don’t understand them. Pickles featured a ‘Charley Horse’ today; I had to look it up.  

A Charley Horse is something like cramps or a dead leg.  Odd.

My little language difficulty reminded me of a post from last year, about British phrases and what they mean:

NaNoWriMo Update

nanowrimo (Photo credit: evilnick)

You may have noticed, after my first burst of enthusiasm, that I went quiet on the subject of NaNoWriMo.  Then again, you may actually have a life.

I signed up for NaNo to settle an argument: the Hub reckons I have a novel in me; I don’t believe I do.  I was prepared to fight fair and give it a real go.  Either way, I’d win: either I had a novel in me, in which case, hooray!  I’d have written a novel; or I wouldn’t, in which case, hooray!  I won an argument.

I won the argument but I couldn’t gloat because the Hub looked so sad.  He’s such a spoil sport.

The bit I have written isn’t very good.  That’s no false modesty: I’ve read enough tripe to know when I’m writing it.  I am a Twihard, after all.

I had intended to have a heroine only – Daisy, deserted by her husband, jobless and searching – but a hero appeared on the scene, name of Jack (a manly name; I made a point of saying so).

Jack was an accidental hero and it was incidental that he happened to be a traffic warden.  While I was still in the throes of writing passion in early November, I envisioned Jack and Daisy in their follow-up novel: Daisy works alongside Jack (it’s the kind of job you’d have to be desperate to take, which she is); they become sleuthing traffic wardens.  I doubt such a pair exist in literature – most writers want readers to like their characters.

I got to about Day 14.  I had about 12,000 words.  I took a couple of days off to do stuff that needed doing…and I never went back.  Every time I thought about sitting down to it, I found something else to do.

For a time the guilt hung over me: I signed up for NaNo; I should see it through; it doesn’t have to be great – it just has to be done.

Then I decided to say, ‘Stuff it!  I don’t want to do it.’ And I stopped feeling guilty.

Writing has always been a joy for me, even essays.  This was the most un-fun I’ve ever had when writing.  I’m not sorry I stopped.  

But I do like the idea of sleuthing traffic wardens.  Maybe I’ll sign up for NaNoWriMo next year and finish the novel.  The Hub is always saying I have a book in me.  It’s about time he won an argument.

NaNoWriMo Day One

That was a surprise!

National Novel Writing Month (Photo credit: Steve Rhodes)

As you know, I signed up for Nano to prove to the Hub that I don’t have a novel in me.  I started two hours ago with the first line in my head and a vague idea of what it might possibly be maybe perhaps about.

1749 words later, which I found surprisingly easy to write, I have four definite characters, a rough plot outline, a mini-cliffhanger ending to the first chapter, and a smug Hub saying, ‘I told you you could do it.’

The story so far: A deserted mother; two spoiled children; one chaotic day.

I can’t tell you any more because I don’t know what happens next.  But I can’t wait to find out!

I hate it when the Hub is right.

I hate it when he’s right and it’s to my benefit.

I wonder if I should add a murder?

 

How To Settle An Argument: Write A Novel

Or not.

The Hub and I have an ongoing argument: he thinks I’m a great writer (no argument there) but I’m wasted on poetry because there’s no money in it.  I should write a novel, he thinks.

My argument is, I don’t have a novel in me.  No ideas for a story, no desire to write one, and my reliance on colons and semicolons is such that, although I might do a Cormac McCarthy thing and start a trend, it really helps to sell books if you tell a good story first; then the punctuation, grammar, etc., won’t matter. Just ask Stephenie Meyer.

English: British actor Robert Pattinson at the premiere of Water for Elephants in 2011. (Photo credit: Wikipedia) Gratuitous use of RP’s picture solely for the benefit of Tilly Bud

Write a book, he’s always saying.  Write a book.

Nah, is being my answer (not bad grammar – I’m paraphrasing Love Actually).

Write a book, like it’s that simple.

I’ll tell you what is not simple: listening to the Hub saying the same thing over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and…see how quickly that becomes dull?

We watched Water for Elephants – me for Robert Pattinson; the Hub for the elephant (he’s not keen on Reese Witherspoon).  After the film, I did what I always do after a movie: checked Wikipedia for background details.  I have the internet; the information is freely available: why shouldn’t I be a nerd if I want to?

Guess what?  The film is based on the book of the same name by Sara Gruen, who wrote the first draft as part of NaNoWriMo – National Novel Writing Month.

Here’s another fact, irrelevant to this one, but I always think of it whenever I think of NaNo elephants and it creeps me out so I have to share it: the book Fifty Shades of Grey started life as Twilight fan fiction.  

You can see why that might creep me out, can’t you?  From vampire virgins to young bondage victims (I hear).  Icky.

So…best-selling novels-nagging husbands-vampires-elephants… There could be only one outcome: I’ve signed up for NaNoWriMo.  At best, it will settle the argument once and for all: I do not have a novel in me.  At better, it will settle the argument once and for all: I have a novel in me.  I don’t mind the Hub winning that one if I get a book and film deal out of it.

Now, what shall I call it?  

Water for Vampires…Twilight of the Pattinsons…Fifty Shades of Elephant Grey…

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Related articles

• National Novel Writing Month…am I brave enough? (bcsirrom.wordpress.com)
• National Novel Writing Month (bloggingtonybennett.com)

 

A Word In Your Ear

Time for some nonsense, I think.  This post was first published in a scruffier form back in 2010.

Cover of Alien (The Director’s Cut)

Bitch.  That’s my favourite word.  I love the sound of it, the way it bursts out of my mouth like an alien from John Hurt’s stomach.  Titch or itch or twitch; rich, witch, which; glitch/hitch/stitch; pitch, switch or ditch: none of these come close to the satisfying pop of the lips that comes with saying bitch.

Sadly, I can’t ever use it; I don’t swear. Except at the Hub in an argument, but I defy anyone to live with the Hub and not swear at him.  It can’t be done.  Nor is it possible to avoid arguing with him in the first place.   We were squabbling one day when a workman was here and the Hub said to him, ‘Don’t get married, mate.’  To which I unfortunately replied, ‘Yeah,  do all women a favour.’  When the workman started crying I had to backpeddle and explain that I was aiming my remark at men in general, not him in particular because I’m sure he is a very nice young man who can fix anything in the house and I bet he could catch mice; Barbara Cartland once said pinkly, ’There’s simply no equality when it comes to mice.’  She’s not wrong.

By this time the Hub was rocking with laughter and declaring himself the winner. I swore.

Philosophy: Who Needs It (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Another favourite word is solipsism.  Also another one I can’t use, but this time because, for some weird reason, my brain just doesn’t work that way.  I can never remember its meaning, no matter how many times I look it up.

According to Dictionary.com:

–noun

1. Philosophy.  The theory that only the self exists, or can be proved to exist.
2. Extreme preoccupation with and indulgence of one’s feelings, desires, etc; egoistic self-absorption.
3.  Blogger.

The first time I came across the word solipsism, I wrote it on my A Level English folder, meaning to look it up later.  My tutor noticed it and said, ‘Solipsism.  Now there’s a word.’

Then he walked away and never mentioned it again.  Proving that sometimes it’s better to believe – to paraphrase The Sex Pistols – I am a solipsist.

Waterford Cathedral facade (Photo credit: Fergal of Claddagh).  This photo was thrown up by Zemanta when I searched ‘John Hurt Alien’.  I think there’s a bug in the system.

Looking for a suitable photo to illustrate this post, I came across the website Movie Deaths.

I thought I was a nerd – I have seen every episode of every series of Star Trek, you know; more than once – but these people are something else. They review movie deaths.  

Here is the tummy alien I mentioned earlier:

[T]he baby alien bursts out of Kane’s stomach like a gruesome jack-in-the-box…As the crew watches in utter shock, the alien looks at them, and runs off.

As you do.  

• Implant yourself in John Hurt’s body.  Check.  
• Wait a while.  Check.  
• Exit in the messiest way.  Check.  
• Look for Mummy – bunch of weird strangers – no Mummy.  That’s a bitch.  
• Better run away.  Check.

And you should take a look at the comments…

Dr Death:  I actually wrote a paper about this at college. Maybe I still have it…

Jonny:  not the most honest rendition of the alien bursting out of kanes chest. I have been watching this movie for like the last two weeks over and over again

Mr Biggs Inc:  How about sex? not SEX sex, but the face-hugger did get Kane pregnant after all.

There’s always one.  

And all of his mates.  Wonder if they’ll review the replay of the moment I kill the Hub for always being right in  the True Life movie of our story?

Whoops!  Sorry, didn’t mean to spoil the ending for you.  I hate spoilers.  A certain sister-in-law once told me the ending of a 1980s’ mini-series:

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‘Let me just tell you this…’

‘…No, I don’t want to know…’

‘…Yes, but she dies.’

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Another sister-in-law told me who copped it in Titanic.

Come to think of it, maybe it’s not spoilers I don’t like, but sisters-in-law.

Actually, Movie Deaths is a pretty useful site.  I have never seen any of the Alien films and it gave me some interesting details, such as Hurt’s character’s name, and where he was at the moment of death: a sort of latter-day Kane and Table.*

*Pun. – noun.

1. A deliberate infliction of the wince factor on one’s faithful readers.  Punishable by desertion in droves, leading to the belief (correct) that only the self exists in one’s personal blogosphere.

 

What Big ‘I’s You’ve Got, Grammar

Before I begin this post about daft spelling and grammatical errors, I’d better ‘fess up right away that I am not innocent: reblogging Al’s post a week last Sunday, I took a poke at the spelling of his name – Cvillean instead of civilian – and I spelled it Cvllean, thus proving the rule that she who pokes fun at another’s grammar or spelling will get a slap in the face from her own slup-ip.

I was inspired to write this post by Janie Jones, who told us of her university cafeteria, where they serve Bisquits and gravy.

I was affronted on two fronts: the incorrect spelling, and the realisation that Janie lives in frontier country.  The sooner I send her airfare to come over here and visit me, the better: she can have chips and gravy, like cvllised people.

Not five minutes after reading her post, I was overjoyed to learn that one of my favourite writers, Jackie Kay, will be singing copies of  ‘Reality, Reality’  at the Didsbury Arts Festival.

Then I picked this up from Facebook:

I scheduled this post yesterday for today – although I wrote it a week ago and forgot about it, fortunately – because I may not get to visit you today.  Virgin want to work on something or other which means I may be without broadband all day.  Which means no internet.  Which means you may wake up on Saturday to a Tilly a little bit off, having gone cold turkey Friday.  Or not.  Same old same old.

Talking of off, sorry about yesterday’s post.  I didn’t mean to gross you out.  But you had your revenge in the comments.  You made me feel sick.

Same old same old.