Thin cakes called Crumpits, made from seeds of Polygonum aviculare L. (Knot Grass)

Came across an early mention of Crumpets - in a herbarium !

Culinary uses of Polygonum aviculare L. (Knot Grass): 'The Seeds furnish a nutritious meal; it
is made into thin cakes called Crumpits.'

a small extract in a fascinating article by Jessica Shepherd, Natural History Research Assistant (St. Aubyn)

Bringing a herbarium to life at Plymouth City Museum and Art Gallery

Word of the day is 'podsnappery' (19th century, from Dickens): 'insular complacency and blinkered self-satisfaction'

Word of the day is 'podsnappery' (19th century, from Dickens): 'insular complacency and blinkered self-satisfaction'.



Word of the day is ‘quockerwodger’

Word of the day is ‘quockerwodger’ (19th century): a wooden puppet whose limbs jerk at the whim of the puppet master and, by extension, a politician whose strings of action are pulled by somebody else.


Word(s) from other languages...

Arigata-meiwaku (Japanese): An act someone does for you that you didn’t want to have them do and tried to avoid having them do, but they went ahead anyway, determined to do you a favour, and then things went wrong and caused you a lot of trouble, yet in the end social conventions required you to express gratitude

Backpfeifengesicht (German): A face badly in need of a slap

L’esprit de l’escalier (French): usually translated as "staircase wit" is the act of thinking of a clever comeback when it is too late to deliver it. UPDATE: the english equivalent is ‘tintiddle’.

Pochemuchka (Russian): a person who asks a lot of questions

Taarradhin (Arabic): implies a happy solution for everyone, or “I win. You win.” It’s a way of reconciling without anyone losing face. Arabic has no word for "compromise" in the sense of reaching an arrangement via struggle and disagreement

Poem - Ech day me comëth tydinges thre


Ech day me comëth tydinges thre,
For wel swithë sore ben he:
The on is that Ich shal hennë,
That other that Ich not whennë,
The thriddë is my mestë carë,
That Ich not whider Ich shal farë.

Poem - Somer is y-comen in


Sing cuckóu, nou! Sing cuckóu!

Sing cuckóu! Sing cuckóu nou!

Somer is y-comen in,

Loudë sing, cuckóu!

Growëth sed and blowëth med

And springth the wodë nou

Sing cuckóu!

Ewë bletëth after lamb,

Lowth after cálve cóu;

Bullok stertëth, bukkë vertëth,

Merye sing, cuckóu!

Cuckóu, cuckóu,

Wél singést thou, cuckóu,

Ne swik thou never nou!

Poem - Miri it is while sumer i-last With foulës song


Miri it is while sumer i-last

With foulës song;

Oc now neghëth windës blast

And weder strong.

Ei, ei, what this night is long,

And Ich with wel michel wrong

Sorwe and murne and fast.

POINT ME TO HEAVEN WHEN THE FINAL CHAPTER COMES | Terry Pratchett | Mail on Sunday, 2 August 2009

Mail on Sunday, 2 August 2009

I’m all for assisted death. Of course there are people who are against
it, but they come up with the wrong reasons, such as “God doesn’t like
it” and so on. Personally, I really don’t think God is all that
bothered, but I would like to think that my god would be more concerned
about unnecessary suffering. Who knows.

We are being stupid.
We have been so successful in the past century at the art of living
longer and staying alive that we have forgotten how to die. Too often we
learn the hard way. As soon as the baby boomers pass pensionable age,
their lesson will be harsher still. At least, that is what I thought
until last week.

Now, however, I live in hope—hope that before
the disease in my brain finally wipes it clean, I can jump before I am
pushed and drag my evil Nemesis to its doom, like Sherlock Holmes and
Moriarty locked in combat as they go over the waterfall.

In any case, such thinking bestows a wonderful feeling of power; the enemy might win but it won’t triumph.

Word(s) of the day: "spring tide" - tide occurring around the time of a full or new moon

Word(s) of the day: "rionnach maoim"...'the moving shadows cast by clouds on moorland on a sunny, windy day'. Such compressed el


Syndicate content