I try to spend some time each day away from screens and away from work of any description.
It’s good therapy to walk, listen, and breathe, far away from such demands.
It refreshes me, body and soul, and boosts my creativity and concentration.
One of the places I like to visit is the small lake in my town. It has a walking track, an exercise circuit, benches to rest on, barbecue and picnic tables, a playground, and a friendly group of ducks.
Just now, as I wrote “a group of ducks”, I began to muse over which was the correct collective noun for ducks. I suspected that “flock” was used when in flight, and that “brace” was used when they were on the ground, but thought I should check.
A little research in the interests of accuracy yielded surprising results. Did you know there are more than a dozen different collective nouns used for ducks?
Some of these terms are more commonly used than others, and I cannot help but think some of them are archaic words. Badelynge definitely looks like the kind of spelling one finds in Chaucer or other Middle English texts. I also suspect that this word has been transformed into “badling” as language and spelling evolved over time.
How, though, are we not commonly calling a group of ducks a “twack”? It’s highly expressive and so delightfully onomatopoeic! Furthermore, it couldn’t possibly be mistaken for a term relating to any other creature.
From now on, ‘badelynge’ and ‘twack’ are the terms I’ll be using to refer to my ducky friends at the lake. Hey nonny nonny!
As I often explain to my students, language adapts and evolves all the time. People invent new words, or blend old ones, to create new meanings or to explain something in a new way.
I’m always fascinated by the process, and take interest in which words are being “added to the dictionary”. Even that phrase makes me laugh, because we all know there’s more than one dictionary, and they don’t all add new words at the same time.
The article titled Five New Words To Watch comes from the Macquarie Dictionary Blog.
The Macquarie Dictionary is my favourite for a number of reasons. Macquarie University is my alma mater, and back when the first Macquarie Dictionary was being written and compiled, I had the privilege of having two of the contributors as my lecturers and tutors in English and Linguistics. More importantly, the definitions are clear and easily understandable, Australian colloquialisms are included, and the pronunciation guide is provided in the international phonetic alphabet, which I love.
Yeah. Nerdy, I know. But if you’ve been following my blog for three minutes, you’ll know I’m unapologetic about that.
I hope you enjoy this article. If you’d like to tell me your favourite newish words, or words you’ve invented, I’d be super happy for you to leave a comment!
Dessert is the sweet course eaten at the end of a meal. What’s your favourite? I’m an absolute sucker for lemon meringue pie, but I also love a creamy lemon cheesecake.
A dessert wine is, similarly, sweet and intended to be enjoyed after a meal.
The key thing to remember is that this is the only meaning for this spelling.
Fun fact: ‘desserts’ is ‘stressed’ spelt backwards, and an anagram of ‘de-stress’. I don’t know about you, but I do not believe that can be a coincidence.
The word ‘desert’ is used when someone gets what they deserve, and it is said they have “got their just deserts”. It is usually used in a punitive way – ‘getting your just desert’ is generally not considered to be a pleasant experience.
Because this is a “thing” that happens, this use of the word is also a noun.
Fun fact: this is a phrase that came to us from French via Shakespeare, who used it in Sonnet 72, albeit in a more positive way than is usually done. So anyone using the word ‘desert’ in this way is using Shakespeare’s language without even realising it.
The word ‘desert’ can also mean abandoning or running away from a place. A soldier who goes AWOL is said to desert their post, while rats are said to ‘desert a sinking ship’ as a metaphor for people disowning or abandoning a place, person or situation that has become painful, awkward or insupportable.
When we say a place is deserted, it does not mean it looks like a desert. It means that there are no people around – everyone has departed.
Finally, a desert is a place that doesn’t get much rain, and is quite barren as a result.
This is the only meaning that sees ‘desert’ pronounced with the emphasis on the first syllable:dez-ert
This makes it a homonym, not a homophone.
Because it’s a place, this is also a noun.
Fun fact: while the Sahara Desert is hot and sandy, Antarctica is the world’s largest cold desert.
You can use a sentence to help you remember the three different words that share this spelling. Saying it aloud will help you remember which is which. Example: The soldier got his just deserts for deserting his post in the hot desert.
I am still coming to terms with the fact that this post needed to be written. How do people not know these are different words?
Apparently, though, it’s an all-too-common problem. Social media is littered with posts where someone has answered with “Defiantly!” when what the responder really meant to say was “Definitely!”.
It happens in my own conversations several individuals on a regular basis. In fact, it happened again just yesterday, so I took a screenshot with this blog post in mind.
I don’t know whether autocorrect is to blame, presumably as a result of poor typing, or if it’s just plain old-fashioned ignorance. The answer to that probably varies from one perpetrator to another, but either way, continuing to mistake one for the other is inexcusable.
Definitely means “for sure” or “absolutely”. In fact, those are excellent choices for anyone who wants to agree with something, but doesn’t actually know how to spell “definitely”.
Here’s a hint, though. Definitely even sounds exactly as it is spelt: def-in-it-ely. It’s phonetically straightforward.
Therefore, anyone trying to spell it should get to the ‘a’ in ‘defiantly’ and know they’re making bad choices.
Defiantly is a word most often used by parents or teachers describing the way in which a child refused to do as they were told. Examples: The child sat in stony silence, arms crossed defiantly. “No!” Robin yelled defiantly, “I won’t apologise for being a grammar snob!”
You get the idea.
It’s definitely in your interests to get this right.
These days, when people talk about a “foregone conclusion” they mean something is a given: it is inevitable, it will happen, it may safely be assumed. As certain as it sounds, it is still a statement of conjecture about an event that is yet to occur.
When Shakespeare had Othello speak those words in Act 3, Scene 3 of the play that bears his name, it had quite the opposite meaning. In this scene, Iago is manipulating Othello’s thoughts and making him believe that Desdemona has cheated on him.
Othello says, “But this denotes a foregone conclusion: Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be a dream.”
Here, he is speaking of the adultery between Desdemona and Cassio as something that he is certain has already happened. This gives the phrase “foregone conclusion” the opposite meaning to that which it holds today.
This, and statements such as “I’ll tear her all to pieces” and “O blood, blood, blood!” are evidence that Othello has already made up his mind about the guilt of his wife and former second-in-command.
The scene ends with Othello swearing his loyalty to Iago and thinking of ways to kill Desdemona. Charming, I know.
Today I received an email which included the line, “It doesn’t matter who’s responsibility it is…”
Written by a professional who should know better, it was ironic that it was me, and not them, doing a massive facepalm.
This incorrect use of the homophone “who’s” instead of “whose” is a common error, but that doesn’t make it excusable.
The apostrophe in “who’s” signals that it is a contraction— a shortening of two words into one, so that “who is” becomes “who’s”. Alternatively, it can also be a contraction of “who has”. You can tell which one it is by determining if the sentence is in past or present tense,
Examples: That’s the boy who’s a really good actor. Who’s in charge around here? Who’s been eating my porridge?
‘Whose’ is a pronoun of ownership.
Examples: This is the farmer whose cows ate all my corn. Whose car is that?
Once you know the difference, it’s fairly straightforward. That means there is absolutely no excuse for getting them wrong, even if they do sound the same when spoken.
Fun fact: “it’s” and “its” work exactly the same way.
“Lead on, Macduff!” is a phrase often used to say “after you” when people are being polite and opening doors for someone, or showing that they will follow another person’s lead.
People who use this phrase think they are quoting Shakespeare’s ‘Macbeth’, but they’re not quite doing so: those are not the words Shakespeare wrote.
Both the phrase and its meaning have been changed over time.
What Shakespeare wrote was “Lay on, Macduff”, and Macbeth wasn’t opening any doors or following Macduff’s lead when he said it. Macbeth and Macduff were fighting one another, and only one of them would survive. The words “Lay on, Macduff” were Macbeth saying “come on, fight me!”
So, next time you open a door, or commit to following someone else’s lead, be careful about saying “Lead on, Macduff”. If they know their Shakespeare, they might just fight you!