Tag Archives: words

Time Traveler Part 4

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Bet you didn’t know there are so many words added to the dictionary every year did you?

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What… you don’t care? Then it’s probably better if you skip to the next blog.

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Lie in. The British phrase for staying in bed past the time you were supposed to get up. Personally I’d like to have a lie in till Covid is a thing of the past…. but that would probably require more pajamas than I currently own.

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Miniseries? This is 1963. I thought Roots was the first.

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Phat. I seem to remember that term from my misspent youth. Pretty Hot and Tempting. Though when I searched for a meme…. I got this.

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Captain Kirk would be so pleased.

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The tiles don’t lie.

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My weekly skunking of the husband at Scrabble in the Barn Mahal continues. And now? Even the tiles are getting in on the fun…

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Yes, those were really the letters I drew. And it’s pretty much what I did to the husband in game number one.

Not to be out done, our second game’s tiles had their say as well.

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My last four letters said it all.

Sorry, dear. I only do what the tiles tell me…

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Scrabble and the inaugural cocktail.

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Now that my seemingly endless supply of liquor bottles were strategically arranged on the custom made shelves…. it was time to get down to business.

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Cocktail business.

We have a favorite restaurant in Kennebunk that we haven’t visited for over a year. *insert audible sigh here* (The bartender is an old client of my husband’s and he’s been known to have a liberal pouring hand. I like that in a man.) My very favorite drink is made there and seeing that it’s won awards, I’m clearly not the only one who loves it.

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Calling it the nectar of the gods doesn’t begin to describe it’s mood elevating goodness, but trust me… it’s close.

So when our barn bar was being planned, built and outfitted? This divine concoction was never far from my mind.

Having never made one, I searched the web for a recipe but only came up with an ingredient list. Being out of Triple Sec I substituted Grand Marnier… and not knowing their homemade sour ingredients, I had to settle for bottled.

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The results were satisfying… if nowhere near the ambrosia level of the original.

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Bad Martha grudgingly approved, but said it still needed a little tweeking.

* side note – my iPhone’s spellcheck changed tweeking to twerking three times… to which Bad Martha thoroughly approves. *

Cocktail in hand, it was time to whip the husband.

At Scrabble! My name is not Martha.

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Game number one gave me a series of disastrous letters…. but I prevailed.

And the beginning of game number two?

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Didn’t begin much better.

( To answer your inevitable question… yes, I drew a ‘c’ Yes, I used that word. And yes, the husband added an ‘ed’ because in the end? He knew he was. )

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Time Traveler Part 3

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Let’s word.

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My birth year seems to have been full of scientific additions that mean absolutely nothing to me.

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But dragon fruit? I had a martini made from those once and it was lovely.

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Elevator music? Great, the next time Barry Manilow comes on at the mall everyone will blame me.

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Fetal position? I’m ashamed to say I have assumed that after a night of too many martinis…. and it was far from lovely.

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Hotdog? Now that I think about it my mother always called them frankfurters. Maybe she was a Rocky Horror Picture Show fan after all.

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And finally Japanese quail, which now that I think about it…. looks a little bit like me after a years worth of non stop Covid lockdown cooking and eating.

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Because sometimes bigger really is better.

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Since skunking my husband at Scrabble has become a weekly pastime… I decided to up our game.

Literally.

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Bigger tiles for the where the hell did I leave my reading glasses now? visually challenged due to encroaching decrepitude crowd.

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And a much bigger, fancier, wooden, swiveling board with raised ridges to keep the letters in place.

How much bigger?

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Well, the box said giant and that’s a pretty apt description.

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So far we’re loving it.

But I’m afraid it’s going to have to be a permanent decorative fixture… because if you think the board is big, you should see the friggin’ enormous box it came in.

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Time Traveler Part 2.

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More words from the year of my birth.

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Clearly I was born in a strange year.

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Consigliere?

Leave the gun, take the cannoli’ Best movie quote… ever.

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Cryoprobe.

I don’t know what it’s used for, but my sphincter is tightening just thinking about it.

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Delete key. Now we’re talking! I’ve been correcting my husband’s reports and letters for 37 years… it is my very favorite button.

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Diddly squat. A strange turn of phrase if ever there was one.

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Time Traveler

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After reading a friend’s post a few days ago ( Hi Grace! ) I followed her lead and searched for the new words that were added to the dictionary the year I was born.

( Yes smart asses, they had dictionaries back then. The stone tablet pages were just harder to turn. )

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Let’s take a look shall we?

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I admit to having to look up anxiolytic…. which was stressful and might make me reach for one.

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Being the last year of the boomers, I was surprised to see it took that long for the phrase to be admitted.

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Baggie and banana seat? Both of those were featured prominently in my formative years…. and for completely different reasons.

😉

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I only got halfway through the definition of bioturbation.

When I came to the defecation of sediment grains part? I figured I’d heard enough.

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But damn, call forwarding and call waiting? I don’t want to be blamed for those.

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Learn something new everyday.

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So I had to buy it.

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Because our weekly Scrabble games demanded it… and I’m tired of the husband getting mad when I tell him his word doesn’t exist.

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Hornito is a mound of volcanic matter?

I always thought it was a tequila.

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I admit to not knowing recta was the plural of rectum… and won’t comment on its proximity to the word rectory.

Nope. Not going there.

And speaking of Jesus…

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All this was fascinating but I draw the line here.

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Grr should not be an acceptable Scrabble word.

And grrrl?

Apparently it references a feminist punk rock movement in the Northwest called Riot Grrrl.

I call foul. And despise common usage additions to dictionaries.

P.S. don’t tell my husband.

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Is it wrong?

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Is it wrong that I’m taking great pleasure from whipping my other half in our weekly Scrabble games in the Barn Mahal?

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Round after round.

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Day after day.

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Do I chortle every time it happens? Yes.

But come on… he skunks me at pool. He murders me at darts. I don’t think I’ve ever beaten him at Monopoly, Risk or chess. But when it comes to contests of trivia or anything word related?

I rule.

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And yes, I take perverse pleasure in the victories.

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Let the games begin.

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So now that we have a comfortable, heated and (well stocked with beer) man cave, it was time to get down to some serious board game playing. Covid social restrictions make multi player games like Pictionary and Cards Against Humanity a no go, so we searched for something fun to play with two people.

The husband won’t play Trivial Pursuit or Gin Rummy with me anymore because I wipe the floor with him every time. So we tried a game a friend had given us last year as a gift.

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Simple enough, you finish the lines from various categories… music, literature etc.

We played three games and I skunked my other half three times. Even though I gave him music questions from his favorite song.

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So we moved on to a classic, Scrabble.

It wasn’t an easy start and we didn’t have a lot to build from.

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My task was made even more difficult with letters like these.

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And these.

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And then these.

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But after a marathon four and a half hour game?

I won…. and my husband was pickled.

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