Parergon is work that’s subsidiary to your main employment, or an ornamental accessory. Parerega is the plural in either case.
As a parergon to writing, I act as a photographic assistant (and I like to think I’m Gary’s parergon, although I’m usually more windswept than ornamental).
Toward is the less common variant of towards. Both are prepositions meaning in the direction of or getting closer to something. Eg todays word count of 1,237 words helps toward my goal of finishing the next Little Mallow book. Toward (or towards) can also mean contributing to the cost of. Eg each book sale goes towards funding my cake habit.
Toward (but not towards) is an old fashioned word for going on, or in progress. Untoward is not as might be expected the opposite. That means unexpected or inconvenient.
Toward is also the name of a castle in Scotland. Two actually, old Toward castle (pictured) is a ruin which the public are welcome to explore. You can get a better look round, and more information here.
Probably the most common use of the word offer is when it’s used as a verb to mean presenting something (or someone, or an idea) for acceptance or refusal. “Can I offer you some cake to go with your tea?” What’s offered can, in some cases, be called an offering.
In marketing terms, an offer can be a reduction in price “everything half price” or more for your money “10% extra free” or maybe there will be a free gift for a limited period.
Also as a verb, offer can mean to provide. “The mobile writing retreat offers great views of Scotland.” (Some of which are shown here.)
As a noun, an offer is an expression of willingness or readiness to do something. “I’ve had offers to supply me with cake in case I run out.”
Sadly that’s a fictitious example!
The first book in my cosy mystery series, Disguised Murder and Community Spirit in Little Mallow, is currently on offer at 99p in the UK (or 99c in the US).
I hope that proves to be an offer you can’t refuse! It offers hours of entertainment.
Heist is a word I’ve heard, read and pretty much understood, but I don’t think I’ve ever used it – until now.
It’s come to my attention because Amazon have labelled my new book as ‘heist crime‘. That didn’t sound quite right to me and naturally I wanted to check if it was accurate. Heist crime sounds so American and fast paced. My Little Mallow books are quite gentle and very English.
Not being at home, I had to use an online dictionary, which tells me that in UK English heist can be a noun meaning a robbery. There are definitely robberies in the the story .
In American English heist can also be a verb. The example they give is ‘he heisted a Pontiac’. I’ve concluded that although I’d much prefer ‘cosy crime’ or something with mystery in, heist crime isn’t actually wrong.
In Orkney it never gets fully dark around midsummer. The sun sets below the horizon, and comes up again a few hours later, but it doesn’t sink far enough for total blackness. The resulting, rather beautiful and magical feeling, twilight is known as the Simmer Dim. (Thanks to my lovely friend, appropriately named Dawn, for telling me this.)
Two for the price of one* this week!
We’ve seen these signs in several beachside public toilets, here in Orkney. I knew clart meant sticky mud, or dirt generally, so guessed clarted meant to be covered in something messy, but overall the meaning was unclear to us, until we asked.
Blackening is a pre wedding tradition here. It usually happens on hen and stag dos, and involves covering the person about to be married in fish guts, manure and molasses. Then they drive about on trailers ot trucks, banging pans and things to make a lot of noise. One actually passed us at Scapa beach, but at the time we didn’t know what was happening.
*And here’s another bargain – my cosy crime novel for just 99p or 99c.
Peedie is a word used on Orkney, and probably much of the rest of Scotland, meaning little or small. It’s used affectionately, rather than derogatorily. So I might refer to a friend who isn’t tall as peedie, but not to a less than generous piece of cake – such as all that remained of the chocolate brownie star the day after I obtained it from a cake shed.
Groatie Buckies is the Orcadian word for cowrie shells. It comes from John O’Groats (a nearby point on the Scottish mainland) and buccinum, which is Latin for shellfish, apparently.
I first heard the term when I spotted two young ladies clearly searching for something on the beach. Being a writer, and therefore nosy, I asked what they were looking for. I was told that local people are almost obsessed with collecting these beautiful little shells. I can understand that. As well as being pretty, they’re very tactile and said to be lucky.
Ooops – please also read this.
Rollick means to behave in a carefree, boisterous manner or to have a frolicksome adventure.
I often have a rollicking good time on our campervan adventures (I’ll spare you the details of any frolicking which may occur)
A stopple is a stopper or plug, usually for a bottle. We seem to have quite a few. I’ve no idea if they work – once our wine is open, we drink it rather than go round stoppling it.
Actually stopple is the verb as well as the noun, but however you say it, it seems an odd thing to do.
