Laura is way out there in that movie. In one scene, where she and Tom went into a clinch, my sis and I sighed at the same time, much to sis's bf's disgust. And Laura got paid for that gig! BTW, a friend actually met Tom Selleck on the beach in Hawaii back in his "Magnum PI" days. Said he was, amazingly, even more handsome in person, and couldn't have been nicer.
Here's a new word I heard on "The Splendid Table" radio show today. A man was discussing having dinner with a group of chefs, and said he felt very:
1. Everyday; commonplace: “There's nothing quite like a real... train conductor to add color to a quotidian commute” (Anita Diamant). 2. Recurring daily. Used especially of attacks of malaria.
Oooo Siren, I'm writing that one down. I'll have to find a way to fit it into quotidian conversation.
Plant names; now there are words you don't get to throw into everyday conversation. Plant names are fun though. A few of my favorites - just because I like the way they sound - are Cimicifuga, Lysimachia, Liriodendron, and Symphoricarpos.
Cultivar names are interesting too. Lots of times people will people will buy a plant strictly based on it's name - especially if the name is their own or one of a loved one: 'Ann' Magnolia, 'Annabelle' hydrangea, 'Tina' crabapple, 'Diana' roses; the list is endless.
A perfect example of a name selling the plant is with roses. Something I've learned over the years working at the nursery is "know your customer". I can't count how many 'Fairy' and 'Fairy Queen' roses I've sold to gay male couples. It really is a great rose - disease free, blooms continually from June to the first heavy frost, large clusters of tiny old fashioned blooms, and it needs almost no care at all; a no-fuss, no-muss type plant. None of this matters much; as soon as I mention the name, 'Fairy', they are hooked; no disrespect intended at all.
The garden designer at the nursery where I work has always wanted to design a bordello garden for someone. "Bordello", there's another fun word. We keep a mental list we add to on occasion of what would go in this garden. 'Boudoir' azaleas, 'Purple Passion' and 'Black Satin' rhododendrons, 'Black Lace' elderberry, 'Robust' male fern...next to 'The Lady in Red' lady fern, of course, who in all probability is no lady. No 'Eenie Weenie' daylilies in this garden - no, no, no. 'Malepartus' miscanthus is a must though; a real stiff and erect grass. Red Hot Poker - some of that too.
And the roses - there'd have to be lots of roses: 'Miss Behavin', 'Voluptuous', 'Sheer Bliss', 'Perfect Moment', 'Feisty', 'Hot Tamale', 'Taboo' and 'Sultry' - just to name a few.
I think the 'Sweet Innocence' azaleas would blush, and the 'Vatican White' salvia faint.
Phalon, a family friend once bought multiple packages of a particular seed from a young Cub Scout who was selling them, simply because she enjoyed hearing him pronounce "nasty-turshums". I've also heard of folks buying a plant because it's named after a celebrity. My mom bought a "Dolly Parton" rose while we were in Dolly's hometown, Pigeon Forge, TN.
"Nasty-turshums." Boll. I'll have to save that to memory for when we start selling annuals in a month or so. That's the time I get Barry Mannilow stuck in my head. Argh. Bacopa - a nice trailing annual covered in tiny, pretty white flowers, and once they come in, "At the Bacopa Cavana" rolls around my head continuously.
Punning with plants is fun too. I once had a customer who asked me what variety of shasta daisies were planted in the garden. "Alaska", I told him. "Alaska again - what type of daisies are these?" He cracked me up and we punned back and forth for a bit. But that was a while ago - since then my 'Alaska' daisies in my own garden have died, same as my ability to pun. Even badly; I never did it well.
Doing some data-entry at work today, putting plant descriptions in the computer, and I ran across a new cultivar of Panicum: 'The Warrior' Switch Grass. "Stands nearly six feet tall; very vigorous and hardy." Resemble anyone?
Sweetmeat: the meaning of the word is a far cry from the lovely hunk of....uhm...meat that the is conjured in my mind with the term, though apparently they are just as delectable. Makes me hungry just thinking about it. Hmmmm....whichever definition applies; mine or the correct one.
"The term 'sweetmeat' dates back hundreds of years and refers to small confections such as candied fruit, gilded nuts, sugared comfits and cyrstallized flowers. The suffix 'meat' is derived from an Old English word meaning 'food', so the original meaning was literally 'sweet food'. Common usage of the word continued through the end of the 19th century in the United States and England, after which it began to fade from our everyday vocabulary. In culinary circles, the term still appears in recipe titles for old-fashioned treats."
I read the above in a magazine article. Sweetmeat baskets - tiny silver trays - are prized by collectors. Never imagining it being served on a silver platter, that's another thing that doesn't quite fit with what was in my head. Gilded nuts? What use are they?
Some of my favorite perennials are geraniums. Perennial geraniums are not the geraniums with the big balls of red flowers that my mother always had; they don't resemble them at all, and are not even in the same family. The common name for perennial geraniums is "cranesbill"; the seed-heads after the flowers fade looking like little beaks of cranes. So pretty, easy to grow, and one of the best is Geranium sanguine 'Striatum': Bloody Cranesbill - not a pretty sounding name for a very pretty flower.
This from my book of word origins:
"Sanguine, sanguinary....So similar in appearance, so similar in etymology, (both are derived from the Latin sanguis, 'blood'), these words are quite different in meaning, and care must be exercised not to use one when the occasion requires the use of the other. Sanguine, literally "bloody", has been used to describe something that was actually bloody or was blood-colored, (and is still correctly, though rarely, used in this sense). From this, it was used to describe a person of ruddy complexion, that is, one of good blood; healthy. Then it was but a slight change of meaning to apply it, in its present sense, to one who is of hopeful disposition, or confident of success, for these are attributes supposedly borne by one who is healthy.
Sanguinary, also with the literal meaning of 'bloody', is used with respect to bloodshed, and is properly applied to a person who is blood-thirsty, delighting in carnage, or of cruel disposition."
Not very humorous....more on that later; this is a two-parter, part two having to do with the origin of the word "humor". It's all bloody well tied together.
After learning that the Spanish word for blood was "sangre", I figured how that delicious red drink, sangria, got its name.
For some reason, I always thought sanguine had a different definition than it does, maybe because the word reminds me of languid, which has a very different meaning. Languid is one of those words which, to me, sounds like what it means. Sanguine doesn't.
The word "languid" brings to me images of sticky hot, humid summer days, sitting on the porch with a tall glass, beaded with perspiration, of ice cold lemonade against your forehead. Anything to get cool in oppressive heat.
Damn, what's that movie...the one that took place in the south. Cybil Sheppard, I think, starred in a remake quite a few years ago, with the Miami Vice guy, and was about a heated affair during a sweltering summer. (see why I stay out of those movie threads). That's the feeling I get with the word languid, though it really has nothing to do with it.
Yep, "The Long Hot Summer" - that's the one, Siren. I knew you'd know what movie I was trying to describe. I never saw the original, though I think I'd like it....ooooo, Paul Newman back in his day....swoon.
Definitely, Siren. Now only if I could pronounce it.
I mentioned something about humor the other day, but seem to have lost it. Probably has something to do with the lugubriously rainy weather, (scoring extra points on that one for turning the adjective into an adverb - whether the weather usage is correct or not).
I found my humor - still no sense of it, but found the origins of the word. I mentioned prior here that the word sanguine had humorous ties. Here they are....
Ancient physicians – from Hippocrates to physicians in the Middle Ages - believed that the body was governed by four primary fluids, or humors - the Latin term for “fluid”. They were the blood, the yellow bile, the black bile and the phlegm. The nature of the four fluids was supposed to be hot and sweet (sanguineus), hot and dry (cholericus), cold and dry (melancholicus), and cold and clammy (phlegmaticus). The meanings of our words sanguine, choleric, melancholic and phlegmatic trace back to those original senses. A person said to be of sanguine humor was of ruddy countenance and had a courageous, hopeful, and amorous temperament; one of choleric humor was bilious and jaundiced, and of irascible temperament; one of melancholic humor was characterized by sullenness, sudden outbursts of anger, and fits of depression; and one of phlegmatic humor had a marked inclination toward indolence and apathy.
"Humor" became a synonym for temperament or disposition. In the sixteenth century the meaning of humor was further extended to unreasoned preference, capricious fancy, and at this period it became one of the most overused words in the language. Shakespeare poked great fun at this tendency to run the word into the ground when, in “Merry Wives of Windsor” and in “Henry V”, he has the character, Corporal Nym used the word "humor" in nearly every sentence. From this use developed the the meaning of the word as we use it today: the quality of being amusing.
What can I do with it? You mean besides mispronounce it?
Perspicacity isn’t what happens on a hot day or in a situation that makes one nervous?
And I suppose, if I tried, I could also misspell it. I can also remember we discussed this word prior here. HA! And they say the mammories are the first to go. Pfft. Ok – so I don’t remember what we discussed in particular; the mental image is not all that keen, but I should get partial credit for remembering something.
Adjectively speaking, the form of perspicacity is perspicacious, which seems a whole lot easier to both spell and pronounce: per-spuh-KAY-shuss. Per-spuh-KAY-shuss means ‘of acute mental vision or discernment; keen’. (Those acute visions – oh-so-hot…swoon).
I did find this during the two-minute drill:
'"Perspicacious" is similar in meaning to "shrewd" and "astute," but a sharp mind will discern subtle differences among them. All three mean acute in perception and sound in judgment, but "shrewd" stresses practical, hardheaded cleverness ("a shrewd judge of character"), whereas "perspicacious" implies unusual power to see through and comprehend what is puzzling or hidden ("the perspicacious general correctly determined the enemy's next move"). "Astute" suggests both shrewdness and perspicacity, as well as diplomatic skill ("an astute player of party politics").
So there ya go; now you’ve an acute perception of perspicacious and the Taming of the Shrewd.
The word following “perspicacious” in the dictionary is “perspicuous” – meaning ‘a clear understanding because of clarity of presentation’. This post is not a perspicacious representation of anything remotely promoting perspicuousness.
My, all these "p" words of late; I am glad I've a back-up to my beloved Webster's with the missing "p" section.
That is a mouthful of peas your Dad had there, Gabs. Did I ever tell you the joke my Dad made in the hospital about pea-ing himself? It involved medication, shaking hands and a side-dish of peas. No? Maybe some other time.
And today's "p" words are profanity and permanent. Used in combination - permanent profanity......grrrrrr.
We have a children's garden at work; my baby, my brainchild, and in the three years since it's conception, it's become sort of a small local attraction.
One of the first things I did was erect a piece of plastic pvc privacy fence - eight feet tall and about five feet wide - that someone had set out for the trash. I wrote the words, "the Writings on the Garden Wall" across the top, and a bag of colored Sharpie markers is hung on a post next to it. It is a giant guest book/graffitti board.
We've all had fun reading the comments from both kids and adults that visit. The "permanent" markers fade from the sun and irrigation hitting it after about two weeks, so the wall is ever-changing.
Mind you - this is a kid's garden.
Someone over the weekend wrote a bunch of profanity covering one entire side of the wall; actually only one bit of profanity, but it must have been damned good sex, or multiple orgasms, because so-and-so f***ed so-and-so at least fifty times...over and over again judging from how many times it's written.
ARGH!!! Now trying to figure a quicker way to get rid of the "permanent" profanity other than waiting for the the sun and water to take its toll.
My three year old colored dark blue sharpie all over our 65 year old hardwood floors in the living room. Tried Magic Eraser and it worked great, but needed lots of elbow grease and I was worried about taking the finish off. Read somewhere else on this site about using DEEP WOODS OFF and it totally worked!! Takes the marker right off--spray and wipe down with a cloth. DEEP WOODS OFF SPRAY!!!
RE: Removing Permanent Marker from Wood Furniture
Angela (Guest Post) 2006-05-24
People! The eraser did remove most of the permanent marker from my hardwood floor (with a lot of elbow grease, because my 2 yr old damaged a large area) but the eraser also took the finish off the floor. I stopped, went to the pantry and grabbed the Goo Gone and decided to go for it with this powerful stuff, since nothing else was going to work. Guess what!! 10 seconds after spraying it on the site, I wiped it with a dry cloth and it disappeared immediately. Goo Gone literally dissolves permanent pen on contact! And it did NOT remove the finish from my floor. I woudn't let it sit for more than a few seconds though, because it's super strong. I am amazed that it didn't hurt the finish and the ink is 100% gone!
Last Edit: Jun 9, 2006 20:15:27 GMT -6 by Mini Mia
A belated thank-you for the tips, Mia. The fencing was of the plastic nature, and someone had already taken care of it for me: a visitor scratched over the offensive words with black marker. It's all faded to being barely legable now.
Saw this on another site, and thought it fun.
Every schoolchild knows that kangaroos carry their babies in their pouches. Fewer people know about kangaroo words, which carry their own baby words with the same meanings.
For example, the kangaroo word 'illuminated' contains the synonym 'lit' among its letters. Similarly 'exists' hides the word 'is' and 'deceased' includes 'dead'.