An aardwolf is a grey and black stripy, African animal, related to hyenas. It eats insects (up to 250 termites per sitting) and is nocturnal. They’re rather cute. I’m sorry I don’t have a picture – next time I’m wandering the scrublands of Easterm Africa at night, I’ll be sure to put that right.

I mention them because stories, amongst other things, are often listed alphabetically and being near the top can be an advantage in some situations and aardvarks have been overused for that purpose.

Three points are on offer to the first person to write a story titled, ‘Adam the Aardwolf’s Amazing Adventures Amongst the Agave in Aberystwyth.’

Lugubrious sounds as though it should be something fun, doesn’t it? It actually means, doleful, mournful or dismal.

As far as I can recall I’ve only ever come across it in relation to speech, but characters needn’t just speak lugubriously, the could show their inner lugubriousness through a sad expression and dejected manner.

Much as I like the sound of foghorns, I think it would be fair to describe the noise they make as lugubrious.

According to my dictionary, hyperbole (pronounced hyperbollee) is ‘an exaggerated statement not meant to be taken literally’. I wish someone would tell the media (especially the local news) and marketeers that.

People are never a bit upset and mildly inconvenienced when a bus service changes or the lift is out of order, they’re devastated, trapped and stranded. When there’s a mistake on their gas bill they’re not a bit surprised and then glad when it’s sorted out, they’re shocked, dismayed and horrified then hugely relieved.

Food manufacturers don’t release a new flavour, instead it’s an exciting new recipe or unique taste sensation. Products are never quite a good idea which might be useful, they’re innovative and life changing.

TV programmes are never quite amusing, they’re always hilarious and slide-splittingly funny. Presumably ‘they’ watch the director’s cut, leaving me with the version which got slightly lost in translation … either that or I’m just a complete and total misery. Yeah, could be that.

Here’s a picture of a deadly poisonous fungi I risked life and limb to photograph for you. Or, without the hyperbole, here’s a fungi which might not be good to eat and which was growing on a slope of wet grass, meaning that had I not been careful I could have slipped a bit as I walked up to it.

I’m sure you all know that a calendar is the kind of chart thingy with the days and months of the year divided up. You’re probably also aware that it’s very easy to type calender instead (you will be if you’ve read any of my drafts as I’m always doing it)

Did you know a calender is a real thing?

A calender is machine which uses rollers to press paper or cloth into smooth sheets. (The cat is sat on my slightly rumpled quilt, which is the closest photo I had. No, I won’t be producing an illustrated dictionary!)

A tribute is a thing said, done or given as a mark of respect or affection.

Followed by ‘to’ it’s an indication of a praiseworthy quality (as an example, my dictionary gives ‘their success is a tribute to their perseverance’ which I particularly like).

A tribute used to be how miners pay was calculated and could also mean a payment made by one state or ruler to another.

Tribute was also the make of our old campervan (or do I mean model?)

A pipedream is an unattainable or purely fanciful hope or idea. You know, like the hope that when you upgrade one thing on your computer you won’t discover your printer, working practices, hair colour and country of residence are all incompatible and need to be changed before you can do so much as open an email.

Compared with that, becoming a successful novelist seems a perfectly reasonable plan.

I did know the meaning of the word pipedream, but not its origin. It comes from the visions or hallucinations experienced by people smoking opium pipes. Obvious when I think about it – presumably I never had before.

Here’s an opium poppy, I grew. I don’t need to smoke them for them to raise my spirits.

Slight means of little consequence, barely perceptible or scanty.

If a person is described as slight they’ll be slender or frail looking. If you refer to someone slightingly you’ll be treating them as though they’re insignificant. I think that’s more than slightly rude.

Historically castles were slighted to make them useless for military purposes. This kind of damage can be seen in this photo of Kenilworth.

A monolgue is is either a long speech by one person, a dramatic work for one performer or a scene within a longer piece where just one person speaks. I’m not sure if that means anyone who talks to themselves is a monologist whose monological habits cause them to monogolize from time to time, but I expect it’s something like that.

I tried chatting to this chap, but that turned into a monologue.

My writer friend Sheila Crosby shares my enthusiasm for unusual and interesting words, and suggested a few for this blog, including today’s. A clarigation, is a demand for restitution of a wrong or injury. If that wasn’t received, war would be declared! Sounds as though it should be something friendlier, doesn’t it?

Apparently clarigations were particularly popular with the Romans. Strangely I don’t have any photos of roman wars, so you’ll need to make do with a picture of some more modern fighty stuff. I’m sure we’re not going to fall out over it!