Oxford English Dictionary editors recently revealed that “run” has indeed become the single word with the most potential meanings in all of English, boasting no fewer than 645 different usage cases for the verb form alone.
No, I will not run the list, but here is the link for you to run over and peruse. Since you might run out of time reading all the definitions, this is merely a glance. Enjoy.
Well well, we are running out of alphabet and clichés. Fortunately, there is a wellspring of “W” entries to peruse:
Wait on hand and foot: dating back to the 1300s when servants and servitude was common, the expression implies serving a person completely, attending to their every need, often to an excessive or servile degree. Today the phrase is often dished with a serving of sarcasm.
Walking encyclopedia refers to someone having a vast knowledge about many diverse subjects. One of my favorite reads was the Encyclopedia Brown series—that neighborhood detective was one smart kid.
Walk on eggs: something that is quite a challenge and serves as a cautionary when around certain people who are considered sensitive i.e. they easily get hurt feelings or worse, they quickly give into anger (because their feelings are thin as eggshells?).
The walls have ears: a bizarre imagining, yet with all the sneaky tech out these days it is so true in how people could be listening. There is a story about Dionysius, the Greek tyrant. He ordered an ear-shaped cave constructed so he could listen to what his prisoners said while he was in another room. There are other instances where listening posts are created, including the Louvre in Paris.
Warts and all: while warts aren’t lovely, they are a part of life since perfection is often just an ideal. This saying is all about accepting someone or something with all its faults. Allegedly Oliver Cromwell, a British military/politician/dictator, remarked to the portraitist, Sir Peter Lely, that he wanted all his pimples, warts, roughness painted as he appeared or he would not pay him. Art did imitate life in this instance.
[image: TheCollector.com]
Waste one’s breath: to talk, only to realize no one is listening can be frustrating. The phrase dates back to the sixteenth century when it was thought a person’s breath could be saved as in “save your breath.” Tennyson is credited with saying “I trust I have not wasted breath” in his 1850 “In Memoriam.”
A watched pot never boils: impatiently waiting for something to happen does not quicken matters. Anyone who has actually waited for a pot of water to boil can attest to that idea.
Weak as a kitten: being defenseless. The original early nineteenth century expression is “weak as a cat,” although the cats I’ve known aren’t that weak, lazy perhaps, but not weak. We’ve seen cats go up against dogs, bears, lions on YouTube, right?
Wear one’s heart on one’s sleeve: to openly show one’s feelings; to be emotionally vulnerable can be traced back to the days of knights and ladies–a lady would offer her favor (usually a ribbon) to a favored knight in a joust to openly show her support. Shakespeare bettered this expression in Othello, “But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve for daws to peck at.”
Wear out one’s welcome: to prolong one’s stay past polite acceptability is a risk when visiting. As the old saying goes: “After three days fish and guests are equally stale.” There is a modern updated version of this saying. It makes me wonder how in Austen’s day parties of people would stay two weeks or a month at someone’s country house. They didn’t have Febreze back then to lighten the air. They probably refrained from serving fish.
There are scads of “W” clichés still to unpack. Which ones should be included for next time?
April is a fickle month with on and off again weather. There were enough inclement days to rack up some serious reading time. April is also Poetry month, Shakespeare’s birthday, and an emphasis on libraries and librarians.
James Herriot’s Treasury for Children by James Herriot
A lovely way to introduce young readers to the delightful stories of the world’s favorite Yorkshire veterinarian.
The Boy Who Was Raised by Librarians by Carla Morris, illustrated by Brad Sneed
A fun addition to books emphasizing how impacting libraries and librarians can be on a young reader.
Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent by Judi Dench and Brenden O’Hea
For those who only know Judi Dench from film roles such as “M” from James Bond have missed out on her first career as a stage actress, primarily with the Royal Shakespeare Company. From Ophelia to Cleopatra she played most of Shakespeare’s roles for women.
In this audiobook memoir Dame Judi reveals her thoughts and experiences about her career with Shakespeare. Presented as a conversational podcast between Brendan O’Hea and Dench listeners are treated to frank, thoughtful, even randy recollections about the power of Shakespeare’s words. As a bonus treat listeners hear anecdotes about actors Dench has worked with: Anthony Hopkins, Kenneth Branagh, Laurence Oliver, as well as backstage shenanigans like the time she almost went on stage without her skirt.
Accomplished actress, Barbara Flynn, reads for Judi Dench and emulates her phrasing, impish wit, and randy interjections amazingly well. At the end is a conversation with O’Hea and Dench that is a delightful addition.
Wild About Books by Judy Sierra illustrated by Marc Brown
What happens when the bookmobile ends up at the zoo? A picture book filled with lively images and a rhyming text that entertains young readers with how animals learned to love reading. Very fun and a good pick for Library Week.
Ordinary Grace by William Krueger
From the first sentence the reader is informed that death will define the story. The author then hands the story over to thirteen year old Frank, who is on the cusp of launching out of childhood, trying to grasp on to the nebulous world of adults. Frank, though a pastor’s kid, swears, flirts with adventurous undertakings, but is loyal to his family, especially his older sister Ariel and Jake, his shadow and little brother.
The title reflects the calm and wisdom of patriarch Nathan, who exudes Atticus Finch in how he handles tragedies that come his way as pastor, father, friend, and husband.
A richly told coming-of-age story that is reminiscent of To Kill a Mockingbird and Grisham’s A Painted House in that the narrator relates events beyond childhood, providing events with the eyes of innocence yet with the perspective of an adult.
With the good weather coming this means hammock reading which is always a good time.
April 23 is Shakespeare’s birthday, which falls around the time in my blog schedule in which I voice some thoughts about the writing life. I’m in the midst of reading different biographies of Shakespeare, while juggling a few writing projects. In the middle of all this I feel fortunate I have a room of my own in which to write, unlike some women writers my reading has uncovered.
First of all, what I’ve uncovered about Shakespeare:
My reading has added to what is known about Shakespeare with some additional sidenotes. For instance:
Robert Greene casts a snide asperity upon Shakespeare by referring to him as an “upstart crow” in 1592. This is supposedly the first verified appearance of Shakespeare in London. Greene died shortly after that verbal attack. Hmm.
Prior to his London debut, it’s well-known Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway in 1582, became a father in 1583 and again in 1585. His only son, Hamnet, died at age 11. Several facts came to light about his family, such as his father sliding into financial ruin, several of his siblings dying young, his shrewd real estate purchases. Sifting information held within the plethora of tomes about Shakespeare, a few nuggets come sparkling forth.
As fascinating as Shakespeare is, how interest in him continues, as in the adaptation of Maggie O’Farrell’s Hamnet, there is a new focus on the Stratford bard through his sister Joan. It has recently come to light that a religious tract was found hiding in the rafters of Shakespeare’s family home. Signed “J. Shakespeare” it was once attributed to John Shakespeare, the father; however, new research is learning towards Joan, Shakespeare’s younger sister, being the probable author. This indicates the following:
How many other creative works of sisters, wives, daughters will be found that have just been waiting for credit and discovery? In the meantime I will plonk away in my own little room, thankful I don’t have to hide my efforts in the roof timbers.
As sayings go, I don’t think April is the cruelest month as much as I think it fickle. The indecision of committing to either a rainy day or a sunny one is a tad frustrating.
Rain is lovely in many ways—giving life to the winter weary garden for one, instilling a domicile coziness, and the ion freshness, that petrichor essence.
Alas, too much of a good thing happens after the third day of drenching, not trickling showers. My newly planted bulb garden is now a swamp. The sink backs up due to the overfilled septic field. Coziness has become house damp.
In a teasing reprieve April will suddenly decide to gift us some sun and all is well. Except for those days of sporadic the rain and sun combo. Taking a walk requires extra thought, such as packing an umbrella, just in case. Tending to those fresh weeds that feed upon rain-infused-with-warmth days initiates fortitude, that determination of whether to stick out the few raindrops and hope the sun comes back out.
But April is more than fickle weather. It’s Easter, that joyful recognition of resurrection. It’s assurance winter is receding (never mind those hiccups of occasional snowflakes). It’s poetry month. Shakespeare’s birthday. And it’s Library Appreciation Month.
So-
While April is not my favorite month, I do recognize it is fairly special. In tribute to all the happenings in April here are a few poetical offerings that capture the varied essence of this month.
Dedicated to libraries, librarians, and library workers :
Dedicated to poets and poems with a nod to April, with a nod that rain isn’t that bad after all:
An April Rain Song (1921)
Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night.
And I love the rain.
Ah, yes–Shakespeare, who celebrates his birthday on April 23, recognizes the melancholy of April’s spring:
Sonnet 98
From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud pied April dress’d in all his trim
Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
That heavy Saturn laugh’d and leap’d with him.
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odour and in hue
Could make me any summer’s story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew;
Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
Yet seem’d it winter still, and, you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.
There are novels that are infused with such a delightful new-to-me words that I end up frequently interrupting my reading to look up the definitions. I am guilty of word collecting. I cannot do the Linus quirk of skipping over words I am unfamiliar with upon discovery.
Some authors like Mcall-Smith of The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency are quite adept at inserting the occasional stumper. It’s par for the course to come across a rich lexicon when reading classic novels such as Jane Eyre (I kept entire page dedicated to collecting her vocabulary).
Collecting words is what makes a Word Nerds heart go skippety skip and so it sheer delight to discover Susie Dent’s Guilty by Definition. The setting is a renowned dictionary establishment in Oxford (yes, it does ring a bell). It isn’t long before this band of erudite editors start sleuthing. Amateur detectives are not unique. What makes Dent’s book standout is her ability to surreptitiously weave in weighty words and archaic delights not only as chapter headers but within the text. They impressively serve as foreshadowing while providing a witty lexicon lesson.
Here are a few textual examples I jotted down while reading:
Aren’t they delightful?
Words by Definition absolutely created a feeling of finifugal. Fortunately, the dictionary detectives are rumored to appear in a sequel.
Can’t wait. My Word Nerd heart awaits in anticipation.
Tooting my reading horn 🎉I am amazed to report having chalked up 55 read books already! That is impressive, isn’t it? March picks were better than usual with 7 really good reads.
My reading habit has increased tremendously since retiring. It’s gone beyond being a bibliophile. ’m a book junkie, it’s true. I need at least one book to read, two waiting, three I couldn’t resist from the freebie cart, and at least four that I have requested. Fortunately, volunteering at the library, subscribing to newsletters and blogs about books continually feeds my need to read. And since the books are free through the local amazing library I save so much money. That is my PSA toot because April includes Librarian Appreciation Day.
Here are the five 🌟reads for March:
Home by Nightfall (Charles Lenox #9) by Charles Finch
A well-rounded plot that has two separate challenging cases that keep the pages turning as Lenox travels between London and the English countryside trying to solve them. A few inserts of humor, plus updates on family matters, make this one of Finch’s more engaging entries in his Charles Lenox, gentleman detective series.
Shakespeare: The Biography by Peter Ackroyd
Many available biographies approach Shakespeare’s life either in supposition or upon a platform built on a focus, such as a certain year or event. Ackroyd supplies facts about Shakespeare through research involving the life, times, and people surrounding him, rarely straying into conjecture, rather building his biography of Shakespeare through context.
The Light on Horn Island by Valerie Fraser Luesse
A likable, easy-going story with magical realism leaning towards inspirational romance that ticks all the boxes when it comes to a story set in the South: characters with nicknames as unique as their personalities, picturesque landmarks attached to childhood memories, regrets of the past, and promises for the future.
The Old Woman Who Named Things by Cynthia Rylant, illustrated by Kathryn Brown
An endearing picture book of an elderly woman who is willing to take a chance to move out of her set way of life to find companionship. The soft illustrations capture the whimsy and joy within the story.
Guilt by Definition by Susie Dent
Having a team of dictionary detectives is brilliant. The premise is reminiscent of Anthony Horowitz’s Susan Ryeland books, where readers follow along as a book editor tries to solve the mystery in her amateur but determined manner. In Dent’s book readers get the behind-the-scenes of a dictionary publisher that sounds oh so similar to the OED (and that is perhaps not a coincidence).
The Book No One Wanted to Read by Richard Ayoade, illustrated by Tor Freeman
Both versions, text with its clever illustrations and fonts, and the audio with author-narration, are clever and witty. Not for kids only.
Bud, Not Buddy by Christopher Paul Curtis
Based on the author’s family background and his personal interest in the Depression, the story of young ten-year-old Bud, searching for his father is definitely deserving of the Newberry.
Though the end of the cliche alphabet draws near, there are still plenty of tired but true phrases to explore. Today’s focus is on “V”
Any other “V” clichés to add?
Having grown up in a town surrounded by the country, William Shakespeare was comfortable and familiar with the onset of spring. Since the 20th marks the beginning of spring, according to my Dollar Store calendar, here is WS’s tribute to spring in a poem appropriately titled “Spring.”
When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo:
Oh word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are plowmen’s clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men; for thus sings he,
Cuckoo;
Cuckoo, cuckoo:
Oh word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear!
For those interested in analyzing possible intent in his words, click “here.“
Being Shakespeare, it is par for the course that he would mix in references to country life, marriage, and the season. There are times I wonder if WS would have found a niche as a country western singer had he traveled in this era.
For me, reading a book involves holding a physical copy (preferably a hardcover) whilst sitting in my cozy window-side lounger or pillow plumped in bed. First preference is lounging in my hammock on an agreeable summer’s day.
The point here is I’m doing the work of assimilating the words, turning the pages, creating character voices as I progress through the book.
I’m not a fan of e-books as they are not as friendly when there is a need to flip back to consult a passage. All that flipping and scrolling feels like I need to hurry. Admittedly they are useful on trips as they are device ready and more convenient than packing two or three books.
The option of audio books is popular and a form I’m trying out as a sleep aid. Many readers I know gush about the book they are listening to, discussing the reader’s narrative brilliance (or complaining of their incompetence).
I’ve relied on audio books on long car trips and to me that’s their best use. Lately though I’ve taken to downloading audiobooks through Libby because, true confession, they lull me to sleep. No worries, I don’t sleep if I’m driving. It’s that time of year when sleep routine is disturbed.
Waking too early due to time changes means staring into the dark hoping to back to sleep. My soothing sounds app of ocean, wind, or bird song sometimes works.
Yet, the best solution so far to drift off to sleep is downloading an audio book. It must be that ingrained childhood somnolent of being read to, that conditioned reflex to relax into sleep land.
One problem is waking up and realizing I have no idea what is happening in the plot, creating some concern and confusion. Another problem is taking a liking to the story and wanting to read it, only to discover the library does not carry a physical copy.
I tend to download children’s books as they are brief, usually clocking in at five hours. I spent on weekend afternoon listening to the Penderwicks at Last, having read the other books in print.
But unless I’m driving, or trying to fall back asleep, I can’t just sit and listen to the story—I need to be active. I know some people do housework while listening, or they plug in while exercising. Those activities aren’t on my first-pick list. My solution is to take up crocheting. One needle is about all I can manage.
I still prefer my books in print, yet a good story being read to me is a win win situation—I either get some shut eye or get a few more rows done.
Thoughts on audio books?
A writer's journey as a reader
Pam Webb 