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.
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!)