The Promised Explanation

A few weeks ago, I told you all that I would give you a more detailed explanation regarding Italy. Well, I'm ready to do that now. I've actually created a separate blog for my missionary work. This will continue to be my personal/writing blog. And it will probably continue to be largely stagnant ;) But I will update my missionary blog on at least a monthly basis so, if I've been MIA here for a while and you're wondering if I'm still alive and doing anything interesting, check here. If you would like to see more pictures of where I went and what I saw in Italy, keep checking in over there. I'll be posting lots of photos over the next few weeks. Or, if you'd like, I can duplicate the posts right here on this blog. If you would prefer that, don't hesitate to comment. It's nothing for me to make a mirror post if you'd like. Just let me know.

Well, I'm back :)

Actually, I've been back in the States since April 30th. 

Yes, it has taken me almost a month to type up a post. Such is my life at the moment.

I am hoping to will post more pictures and/or stories sometime this summer, either on this blog, or the new one I'm working on that will be devoted to my time in Italy. In the meantime, I wanted poke my head back into the blogsphere and give you a bit of an update. 

I've had the time of my life over the last three months. I toured Venice, Florence and Rome. I saw Michaelangelo's David, Pieta, and Sistine Chapel. I stood in the center of St. Peter's Square and sat on the balcony of St. Mark's Cathedral. I went to Paris and stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower at night. I stayed in an apartment in Trapani, Sicily, where I could literally take two steps out my door and be in a bread shop. I took a train to a town in the Dolomite Alps and spent ten hours walking around the most breathtaking landscapes with two people who I didn't even know existed last year, and are two of my favorite people in the world now. 

I could go on and on. And I will. Later. For now, I only  have a few minutes before I have to get back to my summer to-do list. It looks like this:

- Learn Italian

- Learn how to play the guitar

- Get all the documentation to file for dual citizenship

- Raise support to move to Italy for (at least) the next four years as a missionary

Yes, you did read that right. I'm moving to Italy! Lord willing, I will have everything in order to put myself and my life on a plane to Venice by September. From Venice, I will return to the sleepy little town of San Lorenzo, where I will take up residence at Saints Bible Institute as a full time missionary under SEE. 

I never expected to be returning to Italy for missions. I was never the kid who wanted to be a missionary growing up (and even if I had, Italy was never a place I thought of as needing missionaries). I was the girl who just wanted to see the world. I had thought that, maybe, I would get a job in Italy and stay because I loved it. I didn't really think that though. My plan was to spend a semester in Italy, come home and be with my family, and write full time while training Jiu-Jitsu four nights a week. So much for that ;) 

I'll have a more full-fledged update/explanation for the drastic change my life-course has taken soon. At least you now have an idea why my blog has been so dormant: my focus changed. I'm not giving up on my writing, by any means. I will write on the time I have off (which isn't much, but it'll be enough if I have a story). And I'm hopeful that, as I get into the routine of my new duties, I'll be able to find time on at least a semi-regular basis to start writing again. If not though, I figure I'm following Benjamin Franklin's advice:

"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing." 

Picture Perfect

I think it's quite obvious by now that my blogging plans for my stay here in Italy were slightly too ambitious ;) Between my work here at SBI, spending time getting to know the students, and generally enjoying Italy, blogging keeps falling lower and lower on my to-do list. I did promise you all pictures, though. So pictures I will post. Feast your eyes:

What I see on a normal day

In front of the Arena in Verona

Inside the Arena

Juliet's Balcony

Juliet

 The plaque at Romeo's house (which isn't open to the public and thus was rather disappointing)

One of the Sacile Arches (which looked suspiciously like really fancy crypts that happened to by outside)

It's 424 steps to the top of that tower. And, let me tell you, when the bells start to toll while you're in it, it's scary

There are flowerboxes in all the windows and balconies

Behold :)

The Roman Theator (or Teatro Roma)

  

Some of the ruins

 In the ruins

Oh the views of Verona...bellisimo!



How To See Venice

 

Get lost.

Honestly, it's the best way to see Venice. There's literally something beautiful around every corner. The Rialto and San Marc's square are must-sees, of course. They're the major sights associated with Venice, but there's a myriad of beautiful buildings and views and bridges scattered all over the city. And the only way to find them is by accident. Not only that, but you get to experience the real, everyday Venice that most tourists never see. You'll find bakeries tucked away in alley corners and lion-headed door bells on dead-end streets. You'll see the laundry hanging over wrought iron balconies in the residential areas and hear accordian players outside restaurants. Fortunately, getting lost in Venice is the easiest thing in the world. You see, the signs that point the direction to the Rialto or San Marc's aren't exactly accurate. If you follow them, you end up in some abandoned square with no idea where you're suppoed to go next. If you don't follow them, you somehow end up at the Rialto. And once you cross the Rialto (which is actually a bridge, not the name of a river like I thought), it's only a matter of time before the alleys spit you out into the San Marc Piazza.

I was in Venice during Carnivale. It was freezing cold out so the streets weren't as packed full of people as I had been told to expect. Actually, the city didn't feel crowded at all but there were elaborate masks absolutely everywhere - on people, in stores, on stands in every street wide enough to hold a vendor. There were people in full blown masquerade costumes and even the gondalas were decked out in fine array. In the spirit of the day, I bought a mask myself. I didn't wear it very long (have you ever tried wearing a mask with glasses underneath? It's really awkward), but I now have an honest to goodness Venetian Carnivale mask :) 

Before I posted this, I kept trying to think of ways to describe what it was like to spend six hours walking around the city. Only two words came to mind: cold and beautiful. I'll be going back in a few weeks to see what Venice is like on normal weekends and to go inside San Marc's and a few other places instead of just admiring the outsides. I'm desperately hoping that it will be warmer by then. I might have something to say besides "cold" and "beautiful" then ;) Until then, though, these should give you an idea of what Venice is like:

        

    

                                                        

                                                        

                                              

                       

                       

                                                         

                                                          

                               

Benvenuto, Italia!

I've been at Saints Bible Institute here in Italy for exactly five days now :) It's beautiful here, even in the dead of winter. It's also freezing cold. As in, I-can't-feel-my-toes-because-its-20-degrees-out cold. Fortunately for me, my work in the kitchen involves lots of hot water and steaming pots so, as long as I'm working, I don't notice the lack of feeling in my toes.

I had grand blogging plans for this trip but time and consistent Internet service are proving elusive. I even had a new series planned: Meandering Monday or Wandering Wednesday (I hadn’t really decided on a name yet). And it was going to be great. I was going to tell you all about whichever city/place I visited on the previous weekend and post all sorts of pictures and…yea, well, you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men.

I will post about my excursions, I will. I just can't promise regular schedule, and it might be a few weeks after visiting a place instead of a few days. Classes start Monday, at which point my activities in the kitchen change a bit. I've been cooking with the founder of SBI, Sam Spatola, since I got here and it's been great fun. He gave me all sorts of good advice, such as: "Garlic, onions, and olive oil are our friends." And, "If you ever have trouble in an Italian airport, start crying." For the rest of the semester, though, the food is catered from a nearby restaurant. All I have to take care of is set up, serving, and clean up. So I won't be spending the majority of my day in the kitchen like I have been these past few days. I should have better Internet connection in the student lounge than in my room and, since they’ll all be busy studying, I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to get some posts up at a reasonably regular rate. If not, you've been warned.

We went to a city called Pordenone yesterday and after an hour of walking around cobblestone streets (I have a great fondness for cobblestone streets), we stopped for coffee. Well, they don’t have coffee shops in Italy. They have bars. Yes, you go to a bar to get coffee. Also, Italians don’t believe in regular drip coffee like American’s do. Nope. They make espresso and only espresso. You can add all the milk and sugar you want, but there is no such thing as weak coffee over here. As Sam said, "If you can see the bottom of your cup, it's not coffee."

I didn't get coffee though. I make espresso every morning for breakfast (although it probably doesn't taste the same as the espresso you order from a bar) and the hot chocolate was getting rave reviews by the girls who had been here before. So I ordered hot chocolate. Now I don’t know about you, but when I think hot chocolate, I think of the packets of mix and mini dried marshmallows that you add hot water too. That’s hot chocolate, right? Not here it isn’t. Here it’s more like pudding.  You can drink it with a spoon. I kid you not, I’ve done it. You can drink it when it first comes out because it’s still warm enough to be almost liquid. After a few minutes, though, you need the spoon to enjoy every last bit of the incomparably scrumptious, dark chocolatey goodness that is Italian hot chocolate.

In other news, my alarm clock died the night I arrived. It could be said that I killed it, but I maintain that jet-lag and more than 24 hours of wakefulness are the true culprits. I am confident that, had I been in full possession of my faculties, I would have remembered that a 120v doohickey requires something to convert it to 220v, not just an adaptor to make it fit in the socket. Well, Jet-lag and his buddy I’m-Awake-and-Shouldn’t-Be robbed me of that knowledge. I put an adaptor onto the alarm and plugged it in without hesitation. It blinked on and I set it on the floor to unpack something else, figuring I’d set the time later. When I turned around, it was dead. So…yea, note to all those who want to travel: everything except your laptop needs a power converter and an adaptor plug to work properly. Alarm clocks all over the world will thank you.

Oh, and I can see the Alps out my window. Welcome to Italy ;)

Oh, What a Beautiful Morning! Oh, What a Beautiful Day!

Today is the day one of my long-held dreams comes true.

Today is the day I go to Italy.

:)

14 Days and Counting

I am going to board a plane and fly half-way round the world in exactly 14 days.

And as crazy exciting as that is, it gets better. Oh yes. Because, for these two weeks, I have nothing to do but get ready and enjoy the time with my family and friends. Well, that, and continue in my efforts towards learning Italian. But I don't have to study anymore.

That's right, I am officially done with college!

Technically, I can't say that I have my bachelor's degree in English. I need the grade and transcript for my final course before I can file for graduation and then, given the way Thomas Edison has things set up, there will be a couple months before the next graduation date rolls around. BUT, I can say that I have earned my BA in full. And what's even better is that I met the goals I had set for how I wanted to earn it: in less than two years, for less than $20K, and without putting the rest of my life on hold. It's a good feeling.

I'm glad at what I've accomplished and I'm glad to be done. I'm glad to be free to read and stay late at Jiu Jitsu class and lolly gag around the dinner table with my family because I don't have any more credits to earn. It's nice; really, really nice. And it's exciting too because now I get to think about what's next. I have no plans beyond Italy - and only God know what will or won't happen during, after, or because of my time there - but it's thrilling to have a wide-open horizon to come home to, even if the idea of charting a course is slightly daunting ;)

New Year, New Year, What Do You See?

I see two things happening for certain:

1. Completing my bachelor's degree (1 measly little credit stands between me and filing for graduation)
2. Going to Italy. For three whole months. I booked my flight yesterday and it still hasn't really sunk in I'm GOING TO ITALY.

Other than those two things, 2012 is a mystery package that I'll unwrap a day and a week and a month at a time.

I can't wait to see what it holds.

A Word for Wednesday

We've come to it at last - the last Wednesday of the year.

And I didn't know how to end this series until a few minutes ago.

I thought about talking about the 39 definitions of the word draw. Yes, you read that right, there's 39. But that seemed rather silly. I had a word - doughty - bookmarked from last week's search. It means "brave, valiant, eminent, noble, illustrious." It's rooted in Nordic culture, the Saxons and Danes and Swedes, which makes me favor it. But ending the year talking about a doughty hero didn't seem right either.

I found the right way, though. It's not an obscure word. It's actually a word that needs no defining because we use it all the time. But it starts with a D, and it's the perfect word to end one year and begin the next. I didn't write a story clip either, because I didn't want to take anything away from the impact of this word. Are you ready for it?

Dream

A Word for Wednesday

Guess what, you guys? The word I ended up picking for today is in famous books; the recognizable, household-name kind of famous books :) This makes me quite happy, for two reasons. First, it feels like it's been a while since the chosen word was one that well-known authors used in their works. Second, digging into remote literary corners in the hopes of finding even a trace of related material has been getting old ;) So, yay for an easy word!

Dudgeon - n. Anger, resentment, malice, ill will, discord

Now, if you're like me, you thought the word was "dungeon" at first glance. I was reading through the D section, came to dudgeon and skimmed right past it. Then I realized that I hadn't read anything about castles or stone or dark damp places. I backtracked, actually read the definition (amazing what happens when you read instead of skim, isn't it?), and knew my search for today's word was over. It's a good thing too, because my dictionary was starting to look like a sticky-note hedgehog. And dictionaries just aren't supposed to look like that.

Anyway, dudgeon, as defined above, describes a specific emotion. It can extend, though, to describe a mood. I found several other dictionaries that defined it this way: a sullen, angry, or indignant humor. And, let me tell you, the usage passages make way more sense with the more moody sense of the word. Take a look:

"Now that same night I think it was, or at any rate the next one, that I noticed Betty Moxworthy going on most strangely. She made the queerest signs to me, when nobody was looking, and laid her fingers on her lips, and pointed over her shoulder. But I took little heed of her, being in a kind of dudgeon, and oppressed with evil luck; believing too that all she wanted was to have some little grumble about some petty grievance. But presently she poked me with the heel of a firebundle, and passing close to my ear whispered, so that no one else could hear her, "Larna Doo-un". By these words I was so startled, that I turned around and stared at her. " Lorna Doone, by Richard Blackmore (see? famous work #1)

"And, slamming the door in Meg's face, Aunt March drove off in high dudgeon. She seemed to take all the girl's courage with her; for, when left alone, Meg stood a moment undecided whether to laugh or cry. Before she could make up her mind, she was taken possession of by Mr. Brooke, who said, all in one breathe 'I couldn't help hearing, Meg. Thank you for defending me, and Aunt March for proving that you do care for me a little bit'." Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott (and famous work #2)


So, to oversimplify, dudgeon means being in a really, really bad mood. Easy enough, right? And now to use it myself.


"He's in a rare form, miss," Jerome's butler said as he led the way to the tower stairs. "I'm a warning you, you'd best stay down here."

"You're very kind," I smiled at the dear, grandfatherly man. "But, rare form or not, I'm afraid I have to see him immediately."

He shook his head, muttering under his whiskers, but took my things without argument when I handed them to him. I picked up my skirts and started up the curving flight of steps. The click of my shoes on the stone and the rustle of my skirts dragging behind me were the only sounds to my ears for far too long. What had possessed someone to build so high a tower? One half it's size would have sufficed.

I found Jerome muddling through a mess of parchments. Locked chests formed a haphazard line against the wall. He was drumming his fingers on the table, apparently both blind and deaf to all else.

"Jerome?"

He started to his feet and his hand went to his hip, to the hilt of his favorite sword. He dropped back into his chair when he saw me, and shielded his eyes with his hand. "Please don't startle me like that."

"I'm sorry, I've never made it up those stairs without you hearing me before." And I had never seen him armed in his study. "Am I correct is assuming that he has contacted you?"

"Yes." He was picking up piles of the paper only to set them down again.

"What are you looking for?"

"My dagger."

"Your dagger? Why would it be up here? You keep it in your chambers, don't you, with the others?"

"No." He stood, scouring the room with his eyes. "I mean, yes, I do. I, I brought it up here two days ago and I haven't seen it since. There's no reason for anyone to steal it. It has no value to anyone but him and myself. Help me find it."

He took his arm as he went to move past me. "Jerome, what's happened?"

"Nothing further."

"I know you too well to believe that."

He huffed a sigh. "Then I ask you to. Believe a lie, this once."

"You intend to give him the dagger, don't you?"

He broke from my hold, gently, but broke all the same. It was the books he started moving this time.

"That's maddness. The dudgeon he bears you will not be so easily appeased."

He slammed a book down. "I have to try, Elaine. I have to try."

A Word for Wednesday

It's almost unbelievable how entertaining reading a dictionary can be.

No, really. I mean that. There's all the familiar vocabulary, of course. Then there's all the scientific vocabulary that no one can actually pronounce and use in normal conversation. (You know that rare species of bird from the Indian peninsula? Yea, that one). And, in the middle of all that, you get words like this:

Dingle-dangle - hanging loosely, or something dangling

Can you believe that's actually in the dictionary? It makes me laugh. Now, I may just be easily amused, but I really like stumbling across those kinds of random words in my vocabular ventures. It's fun.

That aside, here is today's word.

Dicacity -  n. [L. dicacitas] Pertness

Webster's definition is a little too straightforward for me this time. So I looked it up in The Imperial Dictionary of the English Language (volume 2, to be exact). It had the same exact definition, but it included the etymology of the word - which helped flesh this word out for me: [L. dicacitas, railery, from dicax, dicacis, talkative, witty, from dico, to say]. From what I can gather, and in spite of "0 results" from the online thesaurus, dicacity seems to be synonymous with speaking in a saucy manner or with satirical wit. In a word, being pert. And so we arrive as Webster's one-word definition ;)

Henry Lee used it in his writings on The Campaign of 1781 in the Carolinas, saying "...the proposition was rejected by Cruger, upon the ground, that this affecting ceremonial of right devolved on the victor, with his usual dicacity."

In a vastly different context, this word is used by a character in The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night. He says, "Oh my lord, I seek only to introduce thee to these fellows of infinite mirth, the sons of men of worth, amongst whom there is neither procacity, nor dicacity, nor loquacity; for never, since I grew to years of discretion, could I endure to consort with one who asketh questions concerning what concerneth him not, nor have I ever frequented any save those who are, like myself, men of few words."

So there you have it - a word as easily used by a military general as by a ficticious Arabian. And now it's my turn.

"I was astonished by the captain's cabin. If not for the swaying, and the rope that bound my hands, I would have thought myself in England again instead of aboard a brigand ship. A perfect set of china cups was set out on the desk and books lined the shelves. The man I presumed to be the captain was pouring tea. The pot looked pure and delicate in his large, grime-sodden hands.

"So you finally chose to grace me with your presence, m'lady," he said, without looking up.

He then sat down, propped his feet up on the table, and considered me. "Will you have tea with an old man?"

"With an old man, yes," I said. "With a pirate the likes of you? No, thank you."

"Being difficult, are we?"

"Yes, indeed, we are."

He grinned.

"Will it be the noose, then, cap'n?" the first mate asked, his fingers digging into my arms.

"No." He picked up the tea pot and balanced it on the tips of his seven fingers. There was a chip on the spout. "She lives. There's a dicacity about her I like."

"There's a what about her?" the first mate said.

"Spirit," the captain said. "Throw her back in the brig."

The first mate spun me roughly around and towards the cabin door.

"Watch her, mate," I heard the captain say as we left, "or she'll lash you with that pert little tongue of hers."

Molto Bella

That's Italian for "very beautiful". It can also be translated "very nice." I thought both were appropriate descriptions for the award I was given by the ever lovely and generous Cherie.

I've given and been given so many awards that Mom has dubbed us "the mutual admiration society." I think that's a very accurate description of what the online writing community is. It a place for writers to support and encourage, to inspire and be inspired by each other. It is so nice to sign into my blog and be effectively surrounded by other writers, even if I don't have the time to actively converse with you all. And I feel very blessed to have found and been found by the particular bloggers I have.

You are all molto bella.  

A Word for Wednesday

I was all eagerness to start this month of Wednesday Words. I was certain that the D section would hold all sorts of unique and interesting words. I think my dictionary is laughing at me right now, because the Ds are determined to be difficult. It is astounding how many D-words are words we all know with only a de- or dis- added to the beginning. Stuck between all those prefixed words, I found this one, which will ring December in for us:



Deleble - a. [L. delebilis] That can be blotted out

The verb form is dele, meaning blot out or erase. Every search engine I tried got confused by this word. I wasn't able to find any sort of origin or history about it. I started getting somewhere with "dele" but then some script started malfunctioning and I wasn't able to access my search. So...I was only able to find and access one little tidbit - a sentence by one Fuller. Normally when last names are given by themselves as attribution, it's because the person is well-known, but I have no idea who Fuller is. Regardless, his sentence is useful and goes like this: "An impression easily deleble."

This is a sad little Wednesday post, I know, but not for lack of effort! Merely lack of information ;) I'll attempt to make up the difference by imagination. Here we go.


"It has to be here, it has to."

"You won't find it like this, love."

She chucked a slipper at me. "How do you suggest I find it then?"

"Methodically. Rifling through his things will never do."

She flopped onto the ground and dropped her head into her hands. "I need that letter. I know he has it, somewhere. It exists in real form, and that means it's deleble."

I sat down and lifted her chin. "Answer me this: what does that letter say that you must destroy it?"

Her eyes were haggard when she looked at me. "I cannot tell you."

A Word for Wednesday

Notional - a. 1. Imaginary; ideal; existing in idea only; visionary; fantastical.

                        2. Dealing in imaginary things; whimsical; fanciful.

I know this word doesn't exactly fit the parameters of the challenge - I mean, how obscure can a word be if it's used in the Wall Street Journal? Not to mention that it's a pretty obvious, straightforward variant of "notion" - but it'll have to do. It was either notional or words like "nut-breaker," for which the definition was: [See Nutcracker]. And the definition of "nutcracker" is "an instrument used to crack nuts." Oh yes. There are days when I just want to tell my dictionary, "Really? That's all you have for me?"

So, notional it is. The entymology can be traced back to the 1590s, where it originated from the Latin notionalis, which in turn came from notus. The whimsical, or "full of whims," meaning didn't appear until 1791. Why that is, I have no idea, but it's interesting nonetheless. It seems to be used most often to discuss theological or economic concerns. St. Thomas Aquinas used it a number of times in his systematic theology, but I didn't take the time to transcribe them from GoogleBooks, especially since the context gets really confusing. The economic usage appears to be the modern use of the word as it appears in a number of newspaper and magazine articles discussing various economic issues.

Personally, I prefer the examples included in both Webster's 1828 Dictionary and
The Imperial Dictionary of the English Language. Two tiny sentences, by one Prior and one Bentley, are given right below the definition of this word. I tried to find something out about these two men, but my searches came out dry. Apparently, they were known and respected enough to be included in dictionary, but not famous enough to stand out to Google. Anyway, Prior uses it this way: "notional good, by fancy only made." And Bentley says this: "A notional and imaginary thing." Webster himself adds, "as a notional man" to the entry.

I think it's a great word that could easily be introduced back into the literary realm. There's no need for it be sequestered off for economic theorists. Fiction writers, by definition, are notional. We deal in the imaginary, in the fanciful. Our aim though is to take the notional, put it on paper, and thereby make it something that exists in actual form instead of something that exists "in idea only."

And now to use it myself...


"I was in the midst of deciphering the last scrawled line on the page when another book came crashing down on top of it. I jerked upright and coughed at the dust that puffed out of the decaying pages. Egbert braced his arms on the table and leaned towards me, his smile smug, his eyes mocking.

"Was that necessary?" I moved the volume off my open pages.

"I got your attention."

"What do you want?"

"I don't want anything. Father wants to speak to you. And Mother wants you to eat."

"Father wants to speak to me? Are you sure?"

He scowled. "Yes, I'm sure. Apparently, he's decided there's something of value in that notional mind of yours."

"Well." I took the candle and started for the door through the maze of stacked books and scattered scrolls. "I hope my notions don't disappoint."

"As do I, little brother."

A Word for Wednesday

Nugatory - a, 1. Trifling; vain; futile; insignificant.

                             2. Of no force; inoperative; ineffectual

This word seems to be used most in legal contexts, using the second definition. As in, laws are nugatory because enforcement of them is problematic or impossible. What's interesting, though, is that the etymology of the word has nothing to do with legalities. See here:

c. 1600, from L. nugatorius "worthless, futile," from nugator "jester, trifler," from nugatus, pp. of nugari "to trifle," from nugae "jokes, jests, trifles," of unknown origin.

I had never associated trifling with joking before, but apparently they're related words. Or, rather, they were related words at some point. Today, trifling means unimportant and joking means to poke fun. How those two things connect, I'm not sure. At some point, though, trifle was equivalent to jest and joke.

Regardless of how the meaning of those words diverged from each other, nugatory is akin to the trivial trifle, not the joking jest. Nugatory is also a word that was favored by one our country's best-known military men: George Washington. A man named Jared Sparks complied and published a collection of Washington's private and official communications in The Writings of George Washington. Here are some of the ways Washington used today's word:

"If we have no occasion for troops for the first purposes, and were certain of not wanting any for the second, then all the expense, of every nature and kind whatsoever on this score, would be equally nugatory and unjustifiable."

"In a word, the confederation appears to me to be little more than a shadow without the substance, and Congress a nugatory body, their ordinances being little attended to."

"It seems almost nugatory to dispute about the best mode of dealing with the Algerines, when we have neither money to buy their friendship, nor the means of punishing them for their depredations upon our people and trade."

"One of the reasons against it is a fear, that all the States will not be represented. As some of them appear to have been unwillingly drawn into the measure, their delegates will come with such fetters as will embarrass and perhaps render nugatory the whole proceeding."

Washington wasn't the only American general to use this word. U.S. Grant did as well, though not nearly as much. In closing one of his letters, which I found from The Memoirs of Three Civil War Generals, Vol. I: Ulysses S. Grant, he says this -

"Regretting that all my efforts for alleviating the sufferings of wounded men left upon the battle-field have been rendered nugatory, I remain, &c.,

U.S. Grant,

Lieutenant-General"

Between the two of them, I think Washington and Grant provide us a solid idea of how this word can be used with its different meanings. And now it's my turn to use it.

"I felt like one of the rats the were skittering around my feet - desperate and disgusting. I looked back. There was only fog in the alley behind me. I pulled the neck of my coat up and tugged my hat farther down. I passed 317 on my left, kicking something metal as I went by. The clatter was like thunder in my ears.

I reached 321. The two was upside down. I looked back. Still, only the fog had followed me. I knocked. The door opened. There was a table with a dirty oil lamp on it and one chair, but no man.

"Won't you come in, my good sir?"

My insides jumped at the voice. It was like velvet, or silk, but with a sinister thread. I tried to still my heart as I stepped inside.

"Please, take the chair."

I wanted nothing better than to face the darkness that hid that voice. Instead, I took four deliberate steps and sat down.

"With whom do I speak?" I asked.

A laugh sounded from the shadows, deep and rich. "I must offer my apologies, lady," he said. "For mistaking you for a gentleman."

"I shall gladly accept your apologies, should you reveal yourself," I said.

"Well then, I'm afraid I must remain an unforgiven wretch."

"A wretch you may very well be, but I am not concerned with the state of your existence. That is nugatory to me. You have something I need. I should like to procure it. Now, if you please."

I heard him move. One step toward me.  

"Nugatory? Indeed." Another step. "I did not think you so unkind." His voice morphed then, from velvet to diamond. "I am no trifle, madam, nor is my existence an insignificant thing. If you value your life, and the life you wish to save, remember that."

A Word for Wednesday

Noodle - n. A simpleton



I had no idea that "noodle" could be used to describe something besides pasta, did you? Now, I love pasta. I'm half-Italian. Spaghetti and all other forms pasta kind of come with the territory, along with meatballs and tomatoes and olive oil and garlic. So, imagine my surprise when I'm skimming through words and see that noodle is not defined as relating to food. I honestly did a double take. I've heard things like "limp noodle" used to describe people, but the idea is that they're spineless, not silly. This is a drastically different way to use a very common word, which makes it doubly fun :) 

Obviously, this is an obscure useage of the word. Normally obscurity isn't the problem, because the words themselves are distinctive. Well, try typing "noodle, literature" into Google. It doesn't work out very well, unless you want all manner of recipes and stories involving pasta - in which case that search works perfectly. So, I have no idea what the history of this word is, or when it stopped meaning simpleton and started meaning pasta. I was really wanted to know that too, because I'm sure the evolution of meaning would be fascinating.

Noodle tales seem to be a sub-genre under both folk lore and children's stories. I found a number of books with noodle in their titles. Things like The Book of Noodles: Stories of Simpletons or Fools and their Follies by William Alexander Clouston, and All of Our Noses are Here: And Other Noodle Tales by Alvin Schwartz.

I think it makes for a great dialogue. It's almost as fun as using nincompoop. Noodle is just easier to say ;)

"I started walking away. I hadn't taken more than ten steps before I felt mud splatter on my back.

"Go on, keep walking, you noodle," he said. 

I stopped. 

"Ignore him," Elaina took the crook of my arm and tugged. 

I started walking again. 

"Oh, well done," he said. "You're a real hero now, aren't you? Being led away by a girl. What a pair you make! The noddle and the ninny."

Elaina spun on him. "You shut your mouth!"

I grabbed her around the waist. "Ignore him," I said.  

A Word for Wednesday

Nimiety - n. [L. nimietas] The state of being too much

This word provides a nice contrast to last Wednesday's, don't you think? Last week was about nothingness; this week is about fullness. Actually, the idea of this word goes beyond fullness into excess. Superfluity is the perfect synonym for nimiety. Isn't it interesting how both too little and too much of things can become problematic? On the one hand, you can be consumed by the "nothingness" of life. On the other, you can be overwhelmed by the fullness of it. You can have too many things to do, too many places to go, too many people to see. If you spend too much time thinking about it, you can be buried by the excess existence of evil and hurt and cruelty in the world. Or, on the opposing end of the spectrum, you can be overwhelmed by all the beautiful and incredible things in the world because there are just too many to see or do, or even read about, in one lifetime.

I think nimiety is the opposite of nihility. Both define excessive positions so maybe, if they were combined, you'd arrive at moderation. Something like...nihimiety - the state of being in the middle ;)

That aside, I have two usage examples to share. One is actually from a Wall Street Journal article. This is the first time I've found one of my words in modern use. It's rather reaffirming to see that it's possible to incorporate these old words into today's dialogue, not just historically based stories. The article, On Eloquence, was written by Denis Donoghue. He says this: "Normally, we recognize an eloquent event as a flare of expression, an excess or superabundance of its qualities. But there are several kinds of eloquence. Some are thrilling in their audacity—they are prophetic, magical, sublime, we futilely say: if we tire of them or are not in the mood to appreciate their excesses, we say that they are pretentious, as Coleridge spoke of 'a nimiety, too-muchness.' Shakespeare's sonnets are such a case." 

The second is from The Westminister Review, Volume 125. I don't know what work is being reviewed here. I kept scrolling to try to find some context, but after about twenty pages I decided it didn't really matter all that much. This sentence actually has a similar idea to the supposed pretention mentioned in the last usage. Here it is: "The lines to the memory of Victor Hugo are finely expressed, though they err is respect of nimiety of sentiment and adulation." I see no problem with excessive adulation, especially of an author who's work you admire. I guess critics aren't so easily charmed. But that's all right. There's a place for clear, concise language. And there is also a place for works full of supposedly superfluous words - because those "excess" words can be what makes a page memorable; they can make up the audacious eloquence that Donoghue spoke of. I like eloquence and I like a certain amount of audacity. So I think a healthy dose of too-muchness every now and again could be a good thing :)

But onto today's story...


"You are too much sometimes, Evie, you really are."

"What did I do?"

She looked so innocent, so completely oblivious to her own behavior, as she stood there. I added the sheet to the stack in her arms and pulled the next one out of the clothespins. I could not believe I was having to explain things to her again.

"It's just that, well, you have this nimiety about you," I said. "Everything you do is excessive. Even your cooking is over the top. I love you, to pieces, but you really need to learn some moderation, Eve."

Before anyone else gets hurt, I added to myself.

A Word for Wednesday

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. I am running so very, very late today. I'm dreadfully behind on all your blogs, and even on returning comments on my own (so sorry!). And I miss being involved with all of you but, like everything else, blogs have seasons. I'm in the Bare-Minimum Season ;) Nonetheless, I am happy to introduce our newest letter of the alphabet - the straight-laced N - and give you November's first word:

Nihility - n. [L. nihilum, nihil, nothing; ne and hilum] Nothingness; a state of being nothing

I chose this word before I left for jiu-jitsu class. It took me till now (three hours later) to realize that it's related to nihilism. Yes, I am that tired and scatterbrained at the moment. Nihilism I recognize; it was one of the worldviews I studied in school. But nihility? It sounded all new and different and so I picked it. And I'm sticking with it because a) I'm already in the ni- pages and it's only the first week of the month so I can't be tremendously picky at this point, b) it is the parent word for nihilism and thus a form not regularly used, and c) it sounds great in dialogue, which makes things significantly easier for me when I'm in a time-crunch.

My search for the origins of this word, or any kind of history surrounding it, came up dry (unless you count the title of an heavy metal album, which I don't). Wordnik was quite helpful in providing some usage examples. I didn't recognize any of the authors - I suppose that's what happens after two weeks of Milton - but familiarity is hardly necessary to showcase use. The following passages are from The Three Cities Trilogy: Rome by Emile Zoa.

"[Pierre] had once visited a coal pit in Belgium, and here he found the same narrow passages, the same heavy, stifling atmosphere, the same nihility of darkness and silence. The flamelets of the candles showed merely like stars in the deep gloom; they shed no radiance around."

"Then, too, the eyes which [Bottecelli] bestowed on his figures, eyes of langour and passion, of carnal or mystical rapture, their joy at times so instinct with grief as they peer into the nihility of human things that no eyes in the world could be more impenetrable."

"And it was the sky then which became all purple and gold, displaying the infinite placidity of a supernatural radiance above the earth which faded into nihility."

"In vain did Pierre seek the Janiculum. In the depths of that ocean of nihility all sunk and vanished, Rome's four and twenty centuries, the ancient Palatine and the modern Quirinal, even the giant dome of St. Peter's, blotted out from the sky by the flood of gloom. And below him he could not see, he could not even hear the Tiber, the dead river flowing past the dead city."

"Ah! Those interminable and lugubrious passages, that frigid and gigantic staircase which seemed to descend into nihility, those huge halls with cracking walls where all was wretchedness and abandonment!"

What I like about these passages is that nihility can be used, and used well, to describe settings and atmosphere. Given that nihilism, as a school of thought, it focused entirely on the nothingness of human experience, I was afraid that nihility would have a similar focus. Certainly, it can be used to describe humanity (such as in the example regarding Bottecelli's paintings). I was quite pleasantly surprised, though, at how effectively it can be used to describe things like darkness and gloom and silence. It replaces the word "nothingness" rather nicely, and adds a ring of sophistication. Instead of saying something faded into nothing, you can say it faded into nihility. And that's a far more interesting way to put it, even though it means exactly the same thing. If you read the above passages again, inserting nothing or nothingess wherever nihility is, you'll see what I mean. The sentences have a different sound to them that evokes a different feeling. There's more foreboding. Nihility sounds like a place the stairs lead to, instead of them just going nowhere. Does that makes sense? I feel like I'm talking in circles. So, I'm going to move onto the story before I get dizzy ;)



"Welcome to the underworld, gents." Torch-light threw shadows over the man's face. He was hardly visible; his dirt-grimed form just another shade of black. "I'll brook no nonsene from the lot of you. I don't care where you're from. I don't care what your story is. You're mine now. That's all I care about. Now get to work."

I took the pick I was handed, and the shovel that was slammed into my side when I spared a glance at my surroundings. I followed the others forward. I was crawling soon, the earth around me everywhere with a clamy embrace. The tunnel opened soon enough into a cavern. There were hundreds of men. Some boys even. All of them picking away at the walls, with sharp, rythmic rings. I headed for an open space before one of the foreman could shove me into a place. I sunk the pick into the rock, and was slammed onto my back.

"Are you ready?" A pair of wide, bloodshot eyes was all I saw. "Are you ready for the darkness?"

I shoved him off me but he only grabbed me again.

"Are you ready for gloom and despair? Are you ready for the nihility of this place? It will consume you. Be ready."

He let go and hobbled off into the shadows until he disappeared entirely.

A Word for Wednesday

Before I get to the last O word of the year, I want to take a quick moment to apologize to all my faithful readers. I have been sadly neglecting all of you, both here on my blog and on all of yours. I will catch up on reading and commenting on all the insightful and amusing and educational and wonderful things I'm sure you've been sharing. It'll probably take me a while at this rate, but I'll get there. Graduation is around the corner, and once I'm done being a full time student, you'll see me around on a more regular basis. So bear with me until then :) In the meantime, I have another word for you.

Oxlike - a. Resembling an ox

I kid ;) That's not actually today's word. But I've come across so many of those kind of circular definitions that I had to share one of them. Oxlike means that something looks like an ox? Really? That's genius. The last pages of the O section were literally filled likewise self-explanatory words. I was hoping (again) to use the last entered word, but

Oyster-woman - n. A woman whose occupation is to sell oysters

isn't exactly useful or a particularly interesting word. So, I ended up picking today's word because I like tone of the definition, and because I can hear it in a story. And since I'm slowly sinking in a swamp of schoolwork, I'm taking the short and sweet route. Here it is:

Oyes - [Fr. oyez, hear ye] This word is used by the sheriff or his substitute in making proclamation in court, requiring silence and attention. It is thrice repeated, and most absurdly pronounced, O yes.

The American Heritage Dictionary had an interesting note on the origin of this word. It says, "The courtroom cry "Oyez, oyez, oyez," has probably puzzled more than one auditor, especially if pronounced "O yes." (Many people have thought that the words were in fact O yes.) This cry serves to remind us that up until the 18th century, speaking English in a British court of law was not required and one could instead use Law French, a form of French that evolved after the Norman Conquest, when Anglo-Norman became the language of the official class in England. Oyez descends from the Anglo-Norman oyez, the plural imperative form of oyer, "to hear"; thus oyez means "hear ye" and was used as a call for silence and attention. Although it would have been much heard in Medieval England, it is first recorded as an English word fairly late in the Middle English period, in a work composed around 1425."

I wasn't able to find the work mentioned above, but I was able to find a treasure trove of examples in A Complete Collection of State Trials and Proceedings for High Treason and Other Crimes and Misdemeanors. It's a twenty-one volume collection complied by a certain T.B.Howell, Esq. in London, published in 1816. I won't post all of them, but I'll give you a smattering.

"Serjeant at Arms: Oyes, Oyes, Oyes! Our sovereign lord the king strictly charges and commands all manner of persons to keep silence, upon pain of impisonment."

"Serjeant at Arms: Oyes, Oyes, Oyes! Lieutenant of the Tower of London , bring forth your prisoner to the bar, according to the order of the House of Lords to you directed."

"Serjeant at Arms: Oyes, Oyes, Oyes! Our sovereign lord the king does strictly charge and command all manner of persons here present, and that have here attended, to depart hence in the peace of God, and of our soveriegn lord the king; for his grace my lord high steward of Great Britain intends now to disolve his commission."

I'm sure the serjeant of arms got tired of saying "oyes, oyes, oyes" before whatever else he was supposed to say, but I like it. It's very official sounding. And if you throw a British accent in, it sounds even better. Now to use it myself...

"I couldn't see him.

I squirmed around two men with pudgy legs and shiny shoe buckles.

I had to see him.

There were black coats, and powdered wigs, and heeled shoes, and fancy pocket watches everywhere. They were all crowding me and I couldn't get past them. I needed to get past them. I spied the pews up ahead and pushed and shoved until I got to them. I started crawling under them. Someone stepped on my fingers once. Is this what mice felt like when they tried to cross the roads when the carriages were running? I heard someone curse and pulled my feet up under the pew as fast as I could. I waited for someone to bend over and see what had tripped them. If they found me, I would be in trouble. But no one did so I started crawling again.

There he was. I stayed there under the first pew in the courtroom, but I could see him at last. He looked tired. He never looked tired. There were two soldiers by him, one on each side. They were holding his arms. I wanted him to look at me. Wished for him to look at me.

A sharp rap sounded and the courtroom filled with lords. Father watched them come in. I watched them too. What were they going to do to him?

"Oyes, Oyes, Oyes!" a man I couldn't see called out. "Our sovereign lord the king strictly charges and commands all manner of persons to keep silence, upon pain of impisonment."

Everyone stopped talking. No one even whispered.

"Oyes, Oyes, Oyes! Lieutenant of the Tower of London, bring forth your prisoner."

One of the soldier men brought Father forward and put him in a little booth. Some other man stood up and started talking. He accused Father. He called him a traitor.

"You're lying!" I scrambled out from under the pew and ran at him. "Father loves the king, he would never betray him. You lier!"

Someone was holding me back. I kept flailing and shouting, "Let him go. He didn't do anything. You have to let him go!"

Someone picked me up. I started kicking, but it was no use. They were taking me away. I couldn't stop them. And Father, he couldn't stop them either. The soldiers had crossed spears in front of him.

A Word for Wednesday

Oscitancy - n. [L. oscito, to yawn, from os, the mouth] The act of gaping or yawning. 2. Unusual sleepiness; drowsiness; dullness

I'm afraid that, yet again, I have no history to give you on this word. It must be something with the O's. Their history is either protected from google or has never been recorded. Neither option helps me ;) But, I was able to find some neat examples of this word's use. The examples include the adverb, adjective, verb, and second noun form of this word (oscitantly, oscitant, oscitate, and oscitation respectively), so don't be suprised if "oscitancy" isn't the exact word used every time.

The Imperial Dictionary of the English Language provided most of them. Two are from a certain Dr. H More. I tried to find his original work so I could get a better handle on the context of the included sentences. I was unsuccessful, so you'll have take your best guess as to what he's actually talking about when he says,  "Which those drowsy nodders over the letter of the Scripture have very oscitantly collected." "Our oscitant, lazy, piety," though, makes sense. I don't recognize any of the other authors, but I'll share their sentences so you get an idea for how this word and it's various forms are used: "It might proceed from the oscitancy of the transcribers." - Addison. "My treatise on oscitation, laughter, and ridicule." - Tatler. And, "He expresses in them no sort of humane sentiment towards these unfortunate men, but the utmost indignation at the oscitancy of those in power, which connived at the public demonstrations of sympathy." - Hallam.

I also found a passage from none other than John Milton. In his prose works, he starts discussing the will of God and how God cannot contradict Himself because of His own character. If it wasn't written in Old English and if I could cut and paste from GoogleBooks, I'd start at the beginning of his argument. Since I don't have time to transcribe it all manually, I'll skip to the part where he uses our word: "...his legal justice cannot be so fickle and so variable, sometimes like a devouring fire, and by and by connivent in the embers, or, if I may so say, oscitant and supine. The vigor of his law could no more remit, than the hallowed fire upon his altar could be let go out."

So there you have it - a new way to describe a sleepy someone (or thing). I now have exactly 27 minutes to come up with a story...next time I give myself a challenge like this, will someone remind me not to schedule it on a day where I normally work full hours and then have jiu-jitsu class at night? It's really not the most brilliant of plans ;) And now I have 25 minutes. Um...


"I set the quill down and rubbed at my eyelids. My work was nowhere near complete, though the sunrays streaming onto the manuscript from behind me had started to turn rosy. I covered a yawn as one of the elder brother's walked past. 

"There is no place for oscitancy here, young one," he said in the gentle, solemn voice all the brothers seemed to share. "Apply yourself until the day is done."

I picked up the quill once more, dipped it in the ink, and began again where I had left off - filling the block letter with beauty fit for the king himself."