Grace Tierney's Blog, page 4

Knolling – an Art Technique for Clutter Monkeys

Hello,

I came across the term knolling this week and couldn’t resist including it here because it was new to me. I mentioned it in passing for my youngest, who is studying design at university, and she laughed at my ignorance of the term, saying that her tutors love it.

You might think, like I did, that knolling was something to do with a famous grassy knoll and a shooting, but no, it’s much more peaceful. It’s the process of arranging objects so they are parallel or at 90 degrees. When photographed this creates a clean, restful image of a collection.

The author Emma Mitchell, whose books and art I enjoy, deploys knolling of items from nature to support well-being. You’ll find her on Twitter and Insta. I decided to have a go myself and my first effort – items from my craft table – is below. I’m not sure it calmed my mind but it was fun to try. As somebody who often has boxes and jars full of oddments from the various crafts I enjoy and from beach-combing, I think knolling could become something I do more often. It’s perfect for clutter monkeys like me.

Despite being an established term in the art and design world, knolling isn’t in the mainstream dictionaries. However knolling.org came to my rescue with the complete tale of how the term came to be used. It was coined by Andrew Kromelow in the late 1980s and popularised by artist Tom Sachs. Kromelow was a janitor in Frank Gehry’s Santa Monica studio and enjoyed organising the tools there when they were left in a mess.

Tom became intrigued by this technique and began to include it in his artwork. The technique is widely used both to create an efficient workspace and for visual displays.

As for knoll, we gathered this into the English language as cnoll in Old English to describe a small hill or clod. It’s related to knollr (hilltop) in Old Norse and knolle (clod) in German. Knolling is only listed as an archaic verb for ringing a bell solemnly – the past tense of knell.

Until next time happy reading, writing, knolling, and wordfooling,

Grace (@Wordfoolery)

p.s. Want more Wordfoolery? Subscribe to the monthly newsletter “Wordfoolery Whispers”. Don’t forget to click on the confirmation email, which might hide in your spam folder.

Wordfoolery Signed Bookplates

Hello,

If you’ve purchased a paperback/hardback Wordfoolery book and would like a signed bookplate to stick inside, please get in touch by messaging grace at gracetierney dot com. I’ll post it to you. No charge (unless I get swamped with thousands of requests…watch this space!). Each one has a border in red/black/white – patterns vary. Apologies for my terrible handwriting, a lifetime in the making, and unlikely to improve.

Happy Reading,

Grace (a.k.a. Wordfoolery)

The Talkative History of Palaver

Hello,

“Oh what a palaver” – any overly complex conversation or event would be thus, eye-rollingly, denigrated by my mother afterwards. Multiple trips to assemble my back-to-school supplies – a palaver, complicated arrangements for a family celebration – a palaver, the many steps in a difficult recipe she’d never cook again – a palaver.

It’s not a word I use too much myself, although I’ve plenty of palavers in my own life, but it wasn’t until I read “The Accidental Dictionary” by Paul Anthony Jones that I realised I could have included it in my nautical book “Words the Sea Gave Us”.

Palavering (a long talk, tedious discussion, long drawn out rigmarole) has been with us in English since the 1700s. It was sailor’s slang originally and came from the Portuguese word palavra (word, speech, talk) whose roots lie in parabola (speech) in Latin. The same root also gives us parole (word of honour).

Portuguese doesn’t donate too many words to English. Others, often with a nautical helping hand, include albatross, baroque, labrador, cashew, and stevedore.

As European traders ventured away from their home waters towards Africa, Portugal’s merchants needed to strike deals with their African counterparts. These talks (often long and complex) became known as palaver in West Africa and the term is still used there, in Portuguese, and in English. Spanish also had a cousin word for the same thing, palabra.

Until next time happy reading, writing, and wordfooling,

Grace (@Wordfoolery)

p.s. Want more Wordfoolery? Subscribe to the monthly newsletter “Wordfoolery Whispers”. Don’t forget to click on the confirmation email, which might hide in your spam folder.

p.p.s. this post contains affiliate links which make a small payment to the blog if you choose to purchase through them. #CommissionsEarned. Alternatively, you can use my digital tip jar to say thanks for this year’s words.

The Romantic Word History of Venom

Hello,

I spotted this oddly lovelorn etymology in “The Accidental Dictionary” by Paul Anthony Jones. I don’t have any photos of snakes, so I hope you’ll excuse the early Valentine’s Day image.

Let’s start with snakes – it’s always important to know if they’re poisonous or venomous. Personally I let the experts handle it and am happy enough that Ireland doesn’t have any native snakes (there are a few pets and zoo specimens, of course). Poisonous ones are toxic to eat and/or sometimes are toxic to touch, but I’ll be safe if I avoid snake soup.

Venomous ones would need to bite you (or have their venom enter a wound somehow). I’d be extra careful around those ones. Technically some are both, but I’m hoping I never meet them when they’re irritated with humans.

Now toxic comes from Greek and is likely to be linked to something nasty smeared on the tips of arrows shot by their archers. Venom, which joined English around the mid 1200s via French, has a Latin root word venenum which means poison, but also medicine and magic potion. In fact the original venom potion was probably brewed in the name of the goddess Venus. You might remember her, she was the goddess of love and desire.

By the late 1300s venom was also used for bitter feelings and language, so I guess the romance didn’t last when the effects of the potion faded. How tragic.

Happy Valentine’ Day, everyone!

Until next time happy reading, writing, and wordfooling,

Grace (@Wordfoolery)

p.s. Want more Wordfoolery? Subscribe to the monthly newsletter “Wordfoolery Whispers”. Don’t forget to click on the confirmation email, which might hide in your spam folder.

The Sparkling History of Scintillate

Hello,

This week’s word is scintillate. Turns out I don’t use this one often because I had to look up how to spell it (twice) but I like its etymology.

The most common use of scintillating I’ve heard lately is the idea of a group having a scintillating conversation. We’d all like to listen in to such chats.

But scintillation isn’t linked only to witty repartee. The word entered English in the early 1600s and was defined as to sparkle or twinkle. Yes, just like a star at the top of your Christmas tree, but in this case they were talking about real stars in the sky. The word came from Latin scintillare (to sparkle, gleam, flash, or glitter). I love the origin of scintilla in Latin – it’s a spark – that bright, brief glint of fire flashing out at us.

We still say somebody is “on fire” when their verbal dexterity is on top form so a link to a spark, or sparkling wit, does make sense. However it wasn’t until the 1750s that we used scintillating with that that figurative sense.

Now you know it’s up to you to cast this little fact into your next bout of scintillating conversation and light up your listeners.

Until next time happy reading, writing, and wordfooling,

Grace (@Wordfoolery)

p.s. Want more Wordfoolery? Subscribe to the monthly newsletter “Wordfoolery Whispers”. Don’t forget to click on the confirmation email, which might hide in your spam folder.

The Miserable Word History of Milligrubs

Hello,

Today, on the 20th day of my Mystery Words Month, the word is milligrubs and it is accidentally very appropriate as today is also Blue Monday (invented to sell holidays by a travel agent, but associated with being a despondent day in the calendar and now used to sell articles about mental health).

This word can be spelled as milligrubs, mullygrubs, or mollygrubs and is defined by the American-English Merriam Webster dictionary as “a despondent, sullen, or ill-tempered mood”. I tend towards the milligrubs during January, hence my Mystery Words Month as something for a bit of fun. I’m posting a word a day on my social media (twitter, facebook, bluesky) with a brief etymology.

Webster’s reckon milligrubs is a variation of an earlier word mulliegrums which itself was probably formed thanks to the obsolete English word mully (dusty or mouldy) paired with megrims.

If you read older classic novels you may have encountered the idea of a megrim. Nowadays you’d say you have a headache or migraine (with thanks to Old French migraine, Latin hemicrania, pain in one side of the head) and ultimately from Greek hemikrania (hemi meaning half and kranion being a skull).

We don’t really talk about megrims anymore but in the 1800s the term was also used for depression and low spirits, which comes back neatly to the milligrubs – a word whose first use according the Oxford English dictionary was by a Tudor-era playwright and poet, Thomas Nashe in the late 1500s.

Whatever the exact origin of milligrubs I think we can all agree that we should avoid them wherever possible. Anything that dusty, mouldy, and painful is not a good thing.

Until next time happy reading, writing, and wordfooling,

Grace (@Wordfoolery)

p.s. Want more Wordfoolery? Subscribe to the monthly newsletter “Wordfoolery Whispers”. Don’t forget to click on the confirmation email, which might hide in your spam folder.

Happy Women’s Christmas

Hello and Happy Nollaig na mBan,

This is an Irish festive tradition which I love, so I thought I’d share its origins with you today.

Nollaig na mBan

{extract from “Words Christmas Gave Us” copyright Grace Tierney}

Nollaig na mBan is a uniquely Irish Christmas tradition and one which has appeared in several of my novels because I am particularly fond of it. Celebrated on the 6th of January, Nollaig na mBan (pronounced null-ig nah man) translates literally from Irish as Christmas of the Women but is usually called Women’s Christmas or Little Christmas.

The idea is that as a reward for their hard work during the Christmas season this day was dedicated to the women of the house. The men did all housework while the women visited female friends and relations where they enjoyed the last of the Christmas treats.

Other folk beliefs were associated with Nollaig na mBan. One claimed well-water would turn to wine at midnight, although watching this event or sampling the wine would result in terrible ill fortune so proof was hard to find.

In another custom a mud cake was formed and a lit candle added for each family member. The order in which they burned out was said to foretell the order of death for the family, in a rather gruesome version of a birthday cake.

The idea of a post-Christmas break still appeals today but it was hard-earned by our grandmothers. They spent Advent cleaning the entire house, and farm outbuildings if applicable. They white-washed walls, painted furniture, and made decorations. Most of the Christmas feast was reared, butchered, and prepared at home. In an era before online shopping and with large families in most homes, there was plenty of work during December.

Although still strong in Cork and Kerry, the celebration of Nollaig na mBan had largely died out during the 1900s but in recent decades it has been revived by the women of Ireland who relish celebrating female kinship and a post-Christmas break as the season is still busy, even with modern technology and help from their more enlightened menfolk.

{end of extract}

Celebrations of Nollaig na mBan in Cork, Kerry, Limerick, and Kilkenny this year may be somewhat hampered by recent snowfalls and weather warnings, which is a shame, but my daughter and I will be letting her brother and father make dinner tonight and we’ll be settling down to watch “The Holiday” together, perhaps with a little tipple.

If you follow me on facebook, twitter, or bluesky you’ll be getting a fun archaic word per day throughout January 2025 as I try to cheer up what can be a downbeat month. Today it’s quockerwodger.

Until next time happy reading, writing, and wordfooling,

Grace (@Wordfoolery)

p.s. Want more Wordfoolery? Subscribe to the monthly newsletter “Wordfoolery Whispers”. Sign up to avoid missing out! Don’t forget to click on the confirmation email, which might hide in your spam folder.

Wordfoolery’s Favourite Books of 2024

Hello,

I love reading as much as I love unusual words. I have an annual tradition to look back at my reading (64 books during 2024) with help from my Goodreads account. Here are ten of my favourite books of the year. They’re not all recent releases, as books wait in my Towering To Be Read Pile and because I’m still working my way through the 501 Books to Read Before You Die List (my favourite from that this year was A Sicilian Romance by Ann Radcliffe, a gothic melodramatic romance). I’d recommend any of these books. If you order through the links provided, a tiny fee is paid towards supporting this blog.

If you prefer posts about the history of unusual words, normal service will resume next Monday. I’m also posting an unusual word a day throughout January 2025 on my social media (twitter, facebook, bluesky) – just for fun because January can be a bit dismal sometimes.

These are in random order. I can’t rank books, I love them too much.

The Marlowe Murder Club – Robert Thorogood

Clever crime fiction. First in a series. Meet a trio of amateur sleuths – Judith the crossword setting wild swimmer, Susie the dog walker with a heart of gold, and Becks the vicar’s wife who can be more than ‘just’ that. Great plot, pacy, funny. Recommended.

Frankie – Graham Norton

I read this for my local book club. Frankie’s life story from early marriage to please her strict guardians and on to 1960s-1980s London and New York, as told to her oldest friend and a young carer who is helping after she breaks her ankle. Draws you in. One of our group said it was like a warm hug of a book. I can’t put it better.

The Blood of Olympus – Rick Riordan

I loved this series (for age 9+) which I read along with my teen daughter. It was fun to recognise some settings from various trips I’ve taken and the great individual story arcs for each hero and many of the secondary characters too. If you like Greco-Roman legends mixed with action and humour you should really try this series of five books (this is the final book by the way) which follows on from the original bestselling Percy Jackson books.

The Wordhord – Hana Videen

Bought this for my etymology reference shelf and I loved it. Really well structured guide to the words used in Old English grouped by themes and with a word glossary at the end of each chapter. Pronunciation guides to help too and lots of great illustrations of specific texts. I particularly liked the references to Beowulf and Tolkien and the charming tone of narration. This is how guides to Old English should be written – accessible and informative.

The Wise Man’s Fear – Patrick Rothfuss

One of my favourite fantasy writers. The ongoing (and sadly protracted) trilogy about our arcanist hero. This time he tells us about visiting the fae, learning to fight, and a mission for an aristo along with his ongoing love story. It’s a sort of magician takes a gap year fable, I suppose, but we can see the man emerging and his myth growing. All set within the framing device of a tavern in a rural village with danger approaching where our hero tells his story.

My only wish? Book three please.

The first book in this series was on my 2023 list.

Juno Loves Legs – Karl Geary

Beautiful writing but a sad tale. Vivid believable characters. Juno and Legs become loyal friends in childhood in 1980s working class Dublin suburb and the story follows them into their late teens/early 20s in a city and time I know well.
Warning -Some very dark themes.

I have been recommending this all year long and everyone who tried it, loved it.

Making Winter – Emma Mitchell

January is my least favourite month so I needed this book which inspires us to take a new view on winter. Instead of huddling inside and avoiding life for a month, Emma reminds us of fireside chats, cake, brisk walks, foraging, and crafting. Beautifully photographed with plenty of inspiration to get going rather than slumping through the darker winter days with a focus on nature, crochet, baking, jewellery, and art.

Saint Peter’s Fair – Ellis Peters

Clever plotting, engaging characters, and medieval town/monastery setting which I loved. This time a big annual fair is in town. The merchants are at odds with the abbot and then the bodies start stacking up. Naturally Brother Cadfael, our favourite monastic sleuth is straight into detective mode.

Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable – Ebenezer Cobham Brewer

(Note this book tends to be out of print – but it’s worth tracking down)

Great reference book covering phrases and words used in English life, and their origins. Some of the Irish references are misspelled or out-dated and there are perhaps too many detailed explanations of obscure Protestant groupings but overall it’s very good and detailed. If you read something from 1800s English lit and wonder what it means, it’s probably in here, up to the 1940s anyhow.

Among Sea Wolves – Jean Gill

Viking voyages, political scheming, love affairs, runes, and sea battles – what more could you want from a story? The second book in the tale of star-crossed lovers Skarfr (bard and warrior) and Hlif (cursed witch and Jarl’s steward) follows them as they take on the long sea journey from Orkney to Jerusalem with their newly Christian leader. Full disclosure, Jean used my book “Words the Vikings Gave Us” in her research so this was a review copy, but honestly, it’s really good.

And finally – the Wordfoolery Books, of course.

My five books inspired by this blog are out now in paperback and ebook (all the ways to get them are listed here). “Words Christmas Gave Us” explores festive words and customs worldwide, “Modern Words with Old Roots” (ebook only) delves into the astonishingly ancient history of 50 modern words from avatar to zarf. “Words the Vikings Gave Us” explores the influence of Old Norse and modern Scandinavia on English. “Words The Sea Gave Us” covers nautical words and phrases from ahoy to skyscraper. “How To Get Your Name In The Dictionary” records the lives of the people whose names became part of the English language including Guillotine, Casanova, and Fedora.

Right, that’s enough book chat. Next week I’ll be back with the history of unusual words. Wishing you happy reading in 2025.

Grace (@Wordfoolery)

p.s. this post contains affiliate links which make a small payment to the blog if you choose to purchase through them. #CommissionsEarned. Alternatively, you can use my digital tip jar to say thanks for this year’s words.

p.p.s. My fav books from 2023, 2022, 2021, 2020, 2019, and 2018 are also available.

Happy Tipsy Eve!

Hello,

Today is the 23rd of December, 2024, and I’m still celebrating the release of “Words Christmas Gave Us”, my book all about the stories and histories behind our words and customs at this time of year from advent to yule. I’ve been sharing a word a day on my social media and today’s is Tipsy Eve. I hope you enjoy this extract from the book. I was delighted to be invited to appear on the morning TV show “Ireland AM” this morning to talk about the book and I may celebrate by having a little tipsy drink this evening in honour of the date.

Tipsy Eve {extract from “Words Christmas Gave Us” copyright Grace Tierney}

This is an old tradition from Newfoundland and Labrador in Canada. On December 23rd, as drinking was frowned upon on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, the menfolk were given permission to become tipsy on the 23rd instead.

They went from house to house sampling the owner’s homemade moonshine or berry wines. The name is probably borrowed from St. Tib’s Eve. There was no Saint Tib but it formed part of an expression – you can do that on St. Tib’s Eve, meaning never.

Clearly some wit decided to link a drinking night with the idea of never, particularly as it sounds like tipsy (drunk). The tradition is still followed in some areas, while in others the night is held at the local bar and is open to both men and women.

{end of extract}

Until next time happy reading, writing, and wordfooling. I’m wishing you a very happy Christmas!

Grace (@Wordfoolery)

p.s. Want more Wordfoolery? Subscribe to the monthly newsletter “Wordfoolery Whispers”. Sign up to avoid missing out! Don’t forget to click on the confirmation email, which might hide in your spam folder.

The Musical History of Running the Gamut

Hello,

This week’s word is with thanks to the 2024 list of the most-searched words using Google. Along with repecharge which I’m sure was inspired by the summer Olympics, I spotted gamut and realised I’d never explored the phrase “running the gamut“. My usual source for phrase histories, which can be tricky and riddled with mis-leading folk etymologies, is Phrase Finder but this time they didn’t know.

Various dictionaries came to my rescue by defining a gamut as “the whole series of recognised musical notes”. Thus to literally run the gamut is to sing or play an entire scale of notes in order, as you might do for a musical warm-up, I guess. But running the gamut is used in a variety of situations today – an actor could be praised for their body of work running the gamut from light-hearted comedies to worthy documentary narration, or a person might face a day which brought with it the entire gamut of their possible emotions.

Gamut joined the English dictionary in the early 1500s to describe the lowest note in the medieval musical scale. This method of notation was invented by Guido d’Arezzo. Guido was an 11th century monk and musician and he called his first line of his bass staff gamma and the first note written on that line was gamma ut. With time this was shortened to gamut. As even more time passed the term gamut came to denote his entire range of notes in his scale. Now we use gamut for an entire range, whether it is musical or not.

Siena Pallio parade & medieval musicians

Gamma, as you may know, is a Greek letter. It’s the third letter in the Greek alphabet and it is named for a fanciful resemblance of the letter shape to a camel (named gimel in the past). Gamma rays, discovered in 1903, were originally thought to the third type of discovered radiation, hence their name, but actually are a short form of an X-ray.

The ut part of gamut didn’t come from a full word. Apparently Guido took the names for his notes from a hymn for St. John the Baptist which begins with the line “Utqueant laxis resonare fibris” where ut and re are the first two notes in his scale. I did try to translate that line but trust me, Google translate wasn’t up to the job! I’m sure a hymn doesn’t start with “let the loose fibres resonate”. Can anybody offer a better translation?

Until next time happy reading, writing, and wordfooling,

Grace (@Wordfoolery)

p.s. Want more Wordfoolery? Subscribe to the monthly newsletter “Wordfoolery Whispers”. Sign up to avoid missing out! Don’t forget to click on the confirmation email, which might hide in your spam folder. There’s a new issue due this Friday (20th December 2024).

p.p.s. Don’t forget that Wordfoolery has several books available about the history of words – the perfect Christmas gift for the word geek in your life.

p.p.p.s. this post contains affiliate links which make a small payment to the blog if you choose to purchase through them. #CommissionsEarned. Alternatively, you can use my digital tip jar.