In my house, this has become a bit of a joke. Not knowing–or pausing to ask–the origin of the phrase sleep tight, we just sort of assumed it was related to being tucked in. Rowyn, who likes to be tucked and covered, “sleeps tight.” Xoe, who sleeps on top of her blankets, argues that she prefers to “sleep loose.” So every night, I call out to Rowyn, “Sleep tight, buddy!” and to Xoe, “Sleep loose, sweetie!”

Hasn’t gotten old yet. We still grin and chuckle over it pretty much every night.

But recently Xoe came darting out with her history book, which had a fun little lesson on the history of the phrase. Apparently, it dates to colonial times, when mattresses rested on ropes hung between the two sides of the bed frame. These ropes would be secured with metal fittings that had to be cranked periodically to keep them tight–to keep the mattress from sagging. So the phrase “sleep tight” originated as a sort of “hope your mattress doesn’t sag!” wish, LOL. Who knew? (Today’s equivalent would, I think, be for those sleeping on air mattresses…we all know to wish them a fully inflated sleep, right?)

When she shared this history with us, Rowyn was quick to say, “Ha! See, you sleep tight too!”

At which she remembered the time the slats in her bed broke and her mattress did indeed sag down. Apparently, she’s still the one person in our house who has slept loose. 😉

My October baking has inspired looking into this one. Why, exactly, do we say something’s made “from scratch” if it doesn’t use a mix? Maybe y’all know this already, since it’s pretty simple, but I was clueless, LOL.

In my head, I think it may have had something to do with the meaning of scratch that comes from the verb meaning “scrape together,” as in scratching out an existence. Because, you know, you scrape together the ingredients. Literally… And I guess that’s not totally far afield.

But in fact, it’s a bit more simple than that. One of the noun meanings of scratch is “nothing.” (Which I guess I’d never really paused to consider before.) So from scratch really means from nothing. Er, nothing pre-made anyway. Interestingly, that’s been in use since 1918.

Writing war books as I for some bizarre reason seem to do quite a bit (built in conflict?), I occasionally find myself looking up terms that have to do with weapons, fighting, etc. And sometimes–like this time–I’m quite surprised by what I find!

Apparently, I’ve been using shrapnel incorrectly. I’m pretty sure I’ve used it in a story before, and if I have, then it’s been wrong. Because it wasn’t until WW2 that shrapnel came to mean “shell fragments, any fragmented pieces that become airborne.”

So what was it before? A specific type of ammunition, actually, invented in 1784 by British military man Lt. Henry Shrapnel. His creation was actually a sort of cannonball that was filled with shot, meant to explode in the air and rain the shot down on the enemy. Though he dubbed it “spherical ammunition,” it was soon given his name instead.

So though the word was in use for a loooooong time, it didn’t take on the sense of “fragments,” often produced because of an explosion, until 150 years after its invention.

This is one of the words I’d just never paused to think about. Auditorium. It was always just the place we went to in school when the whole school needed to meet.

But last week my husband went, “Oh! I’d never looked at auditorium this way before. As in, auditory. Plus um. Latin.”

To which I went, “Ooooh! Of course. Auditory. Like, a place you go to hear things.”

That is, in fact, the exact definition, directly from the Latin word for “lecture-hall.”

It’s interesting to note, however, that auditorium only dates to 1727. Before that (from the 1300s), the room/building was, in fact, called an auditory! That ranks as something I didn’t know. How about you?

I know, I know. This seems like a strange choice of word for me to look up. 😉 But I had a moment last week when I was wondering how long the garden-hose type of thing had been in use, so I looked it up. As I do. And then was kind of amazed by the answer!

Hose first meant “a covering for the legs.” As early as the 13th century, hose were a common article of clothing, especially for men. They could be woven or of leather, have feet or not. We know them today as tights or leggings, but those hose of old would have been much thicker than the nylons some women still wear (though I usually eschew them, LOL).

In the Middle Ages, the word began to be applied to other things that resembled a stocking, like a sheath or a husk of a grain. So where did the garden-hose sense of things come in? And why?

The etymology site doesn’t explain the “why” clearly, but it did mention that one of the roots of the word–the Dutch hoos–not only meant “leg covering” but “waterspout.” I wonder if this dual meaning had something to do with the additional meaning the word gained in English.

Regardless a “flexible rubber tube used to convey liquid” has been around since the mid 1300s! I had no idea it was that old. Hence why I had to share. 😉