by Roseanna White | Mar 2, 2020 | Word of the Week
Originally published November 2011
I like the word “kid.” I use it with my children (do you know how hard it was for me to write that sentence without using the word “kid”? LOL), I use it for jests. It’s a standard part of my vocabulary. But I’ll never forget the substitute teacher in high school who said something about how his children were not young goats,
so thank you not to use that word. And one of my critique partners recently caught me using it in the joking sense well before it would have been.
It seemed time to look it up. 😀
“Kid” entered English with the
meaning of “a young goat” round about 1200. It began being applied to
children in 1590, though it was still slang at that point. It was
accepted usage, however, by 1840 . . . and had in fact been a word used
to describe skillful young thieves for 30 years before that. (One I
didn’t know!)
The meaning of “playful tease”
is from 1839 (which proves that it was a well-accepted slang by then)
and comes from the idea of “making a kid of, treating as a child.”
Though those thieving youngsters used it to mean “coax, wheedle, hoax.”
So there you have it–a brief explanation of why we now kid our kids. 😉
by Roseanna White | Feb 24, 2020 | Word of the Week
I’m having so much fun going through my old Word of the Week entries and redoing some of the oldest ones. I don’t know about you, but I don’t remember all these tidbits I’ve looked up in the past! LOL. This one comes to you from 2011. Appropriate, again, since I’m editing the book I mention below, Dreams of Savannah, to release in the Winter 2020/21 season from Bethany House!
I can’t tell you how much time I spent
chasing rabbits down trails (literarily speaking) for a one-line
mention in my books. Like, did they have bells over the doors in 18th
century New York? Hard to discover.
This last week, one of my random
questions was, thankfully, easily answered. I wanted a character to
mention a cameo necklace, which I was pretty darn sure were around and
popular by the 1860s, but I’ve been wrong before. So I looked it up.
I was pleased to see that cameo,
by which I mean a carved stone with two layers of color, has been
around since the 16th century. Cameos maintained a steady popularity for
centuries–Elizabeth I had a sizable collection, as did Catherine the
Great. And since Queen Victoria favored them, they even stuck around
during the fast-changing fashion of the 19th century.
In 1851 the word was attributed
to “a short literary sketch or portrait.” Very much related to the
pendant, which commonly depict a bust or figure (though not always). And
so this sense was also transferred to the stage/film in 1928, when it
came to mean “a brief role that stands out from other minor parts in a
performance.”
I have a cameo necklace I
inherited from my great-grandmother, and I love it. =) There’s something
so very romantic about those treasures from times past . . .
by Roseanna White | Feb 17, 2020 | Word of the Week
This is another re-post, from way back in 2011…and I couldn’t resist sharing it again now, given that the most famous use of fiddle de dee is undoubtedly from Gone with the Wind, and I’m currently editing my upcoming novel, Dreams of Savannah that has a very similar setting. 😃 So on to the words!
Everyone knows what a fiddle is, right? Or what it means
to fiddle. It’s a
Violin. More, it’s a colloquial use (that usually denotes the rural or country or south) at this point. Why? Interestingly, the word
fiddle has been used since the late 14th century (!!!), so it’s a perfectly legitimate use. Why the connotation? (Let’s keep in mind that I LOVE what has become termed
“”fiddling.” I like the more formal
Violin too, but the fiddle is so much
fun!)
Interestingly, it’s been
relegated to such use largely because of the other words containing fiddle that mean “nonsense.” Funny, huh? We’ve got fiddle-faddle used
since 1610 for “nonsense.” Fiddlesticks has meant the same since 1620.
Fiddlededee combines the nonsensical with contempt and has since 1784.
From what I can tell, there’s no particular reason why “fiddle” got used in all these words, but it’s certainly had an effect on the root word.
Fiddle now has associations with nonsense.
Maybe
that’s why I like it so well. 😏
by Roseanna White | Feb 3, 2020 | Word of the Week
This one was a question my son asked the other day. Why do we use the same word for the two different meanings of stable–the adjective and then the noun? Are they from the same root?
(Why yes, my children do ask questions like this regularly, LOL.)
The short answer is yes, they’re from the same Latin word. The longer answer is that both adjective and noun came to English through Old French, the adjective–meaning, at the time, “trustworthy, reliable”–predating the noun by a few decades, though both were in the English language from the 12th or 13th centuries. The meanings really haven’t changed that much over the years, either. The noun has always been a building or stall where domestic animals are kept. The adjective shifted ever so slightly from “trustworthy” to “steadfast, constant, secure.” (And was applied to isotopes in 1902!)
The Latin root from which both meanings come is sta– (with different suffixes applied for noun and adjective), meaning, not surprisingly, “to stand.” Hence why it applies both to a building and to an upstanding character.
So there we have it, O son of mine. 😉
by Roseanna White | Jan 27, 2020 | Word of the Week
Originally published 5/12/12
I thought it would be fun to revisit this old Word of the Week when I saw the pretty photo I put in here of a strip of our flowers at our old house. Ah, spring, how I long for thee. 😉 So here you go–a(nother) glimpse at the word plant:
Every time we go to my mom’s we see the power plant across the river–and every time, my kids ask, “Why’s it called a ‘plant’?” And every time, I go, “Uh . . . ” At one point I made up an answer–and what do you know, I was right! LOL
Plant is from the Latin planta, meaning “sprout, shoot, cutting” which may be from plantare, “to drive in with the feet, push into the ground with the feet.” Which is in turn from planta, “sole of the foot.” By 1550 it moved from its first English meaning of “shrub or newly-planted herb” to any vegetation. The verb “to plant” has been around since Old English, just like the noun.
Now, the building–it is fact from the same idea, meaning a building planted in a particular area for industrial purposes. That usage came into meaning in 1789. And interestingly, the meaning of “a spy” is from 1812. =)
by Roseanna White | Jan 20, 2020 | Word of the Week
Okay, I just did this one not-quite-three-years ago…but it was when I was brainstorming
On Wings of Devotion, so it seemed like a fun revisit!
~*~
This might seem like an odd word of the week until you consider I’m a writer, LOL. One who, as it happens, is indeed brainstorming a plot that involves a kidnapping. [Modern insert: that would, of course, be Camden kidnapping Arabelle.]
And yet, I actually read about this word from pure happenstance. 😉 Go figure!
Anyway. It’s kinda of interesting, so let’s take a look.
First of all, though sometimes moderns think kid, as applied to a child, is terrible slang that was never used in historical days, that’s simply not true. The word for “a young goat” since 1200, it was extended to children in the 1500s–first written record is the 1590s, but no doubt it was used it speech before that. It was slang at first, yes, but had lost that “slang” stigma by the 1840s (though it was still considered an informal word).
So then kidnap comes to us by the 1680s–part of thieves’ language. It was originally used for when they stole children to ship them to the American colonies as servants or laborers! Who knew? The kid part is therefore obvious. Nap is a variant of nab. But interesting is that kidnapper was in use at least a decade before kidnap, leading experts to believe the verb is a back-formation of the noun.
Now off I go plot out a story in which my hero kidnaps my heroine and gets way more than he bargained for, LOL.
Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award winning author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.