 Homophones are words that are spelled differently, but sound alike. Because of that, they account for a substantial number of misspellings.
Flower, the blossom of a plant, came to English through Latin & French. The noun flour, the finer portion of ground grain, came from flower, as both a flower and & flour were considered to be “the finest part.” The verb to break means to violently divide solid matter into parts or fragments. It comes from Proto-Germanic, & gave birth to its homophone brake, originally an instrument for crushing or pounding. An idol is an image of a deity. It came to English from Latin, as opposed to idle, a Proto-Germanic word meaning empty, void, vain, wothless, or useless, which didn’t come to mean unemployed until the 1500s. The verb to pray is to ask or earnestly beg, & showed up in English through Old French from Proto-Indo-European. The noun prey, an animal hunted for food, started as a Proto-Indo-European word meaning to seize or take, then made its way through Latin & Old French to English. We’ve had the word whether since Old English. It means which of two, & comes from Proto-Indo-European through Proto-Germanic. Chances are very good it wouldn’t be a homophone had we held onto the Proto-Germanic spelling — *gihwatharaz. Ouch. Our modern word whether gets confused with our modern word weather, which in Old English meant air, sky, breeze, storm, or tempest, & like whether, it came through Proto-Germanic What homophones get in the way of your spelling (or your spellcheck’s spelling)? Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, the OED, Merriam Webster, Collins Dictionary, & Florals Your Way.
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 The verb rub is a bit of an etymological mystery. We’re not sure where it came from, & all three identified potential source words (from East Frisian, Low German, & Norwegian) have unidentified sources. On top of all that, rub is an important element in some spiffy idioms: to rub elbows to rub shoulders to rub noses to rub up against to rub someone or something down to rub someone the wrong way to rub someone’s fur the wrong way to rub something in to rub something off to rub someone’s nose in something to rub salt into a wound to rub one’s nose in the dirt to rub off on something/someone therein lies the rub / there’s the rub give someone the rub to not have two pennies/nickels/brain cells to rub together This week, may nobody rub you the wrong way. Thanks to this week’s sources: The Free Dictionary, Etymonline, NTC’s American Idioms Dictionary, & Vecteezy.  A whole lot of scoffing went on this last year, especially in the political realm, so here’s a look into scoff & some of its synonyms. The verb scoff came to English from an un-agreed-upon Scandinavian or German source. Perhaps an Old Norse word meaning mockery or ridicule, perhaps an Old High German word meaning sport, jest, or derision, or a Middle Danish word meaning jest & mockery. In Modern English, scoff means to show contempt by derisive acts or language. To deride is to laugh at or insult contemptuously. Deride comes through French from the Latin word deridere, to ridicule, laugh at, or scorn. Like scoff, the verb jeer, to deride or mock, is a mystery. It may have come from Dutch or German, but we’re not sure. And some etymologists suggest jeer may be an ironic mispronunication of the verb cheer. A near-synonym is the verb revile, to subject to verbal abuse. Revile came from Old French & is related to villain, & vilify, & of course, vile. Another near-synonym is mock, to behave with scorn or contempt, or to mimic derisively. It most likely came through Old French from Latin, though it may have come from a Vulgar Latin word meaning to blow the nose. To ridicule is to make fun of, mock, or deride. This verb showed up in the 1680s from a French word meaning to treat with contemptuous merriment. Contemptuous merriment? Hmmm. And sneer first appeared in English in the 1550s meaning to snort or scorn, though by the 1670s it had morphed to a word meaning to grin or smile contemptuously, & by 1707 it had come to mean to speak derisively or insinuate contemptuously. The meaning to curl the upper lip in scorn joined us in 1775. As the new year dawns, may all sneering, deriding, mocking, reviling, ridiculing, & scoffing be behind you. Big thanks to his week’s sources, Merriam Webster, Thesaurus.com, Collins Dictionary, Etymonline, & Steve Lowtwait Art.  Many parts of the northern hemisphere are experiencing precipitation this time of year, so here we go. The word snow comes through Middle (snou) & Old English (snaw) from a Proto-Germanic word (snaiwaz) meaning, well, snow. It has some very cool sounding relatives: Dutch --sneeuw Old Irish — snechta Old Church Slavonic -- snegu Old Norse -- snjor Gothic -- snaiws The word rain has also been with us a very long time & comes from a Proto-Germanic word meaning, well, rain. The noun hail, meaning pellets of ice falling from the sky, is also of Proto-Germanic origin. And the word sleet comes from Proto-Germanic, too. Originally slautjan, sleet is precipitation of mingled snow & rain. Deluge comes through Middle English & Anglo-French from the Latin word deluvium, meaning flood or inundation. Drizzle comes from an Old English verb meaning to fall. And the lovely & under-appreciated word mizzle comes from Middle English. It’s related to a Dutch word meaning fog or mist. My sister in Montana, uses the word grapple to describe a snowy/rainy mix, though Merriam Webster spells it graupel, & cites it’s the diminutive form of a word meaning pearl barley. Hmmm. My pals in Ohio refer to the same sort of precipitiation as sniz, a combination of snow & drizzle. May your winter holidays be sweet & may any precipitation stay outside, so you can best appreciate it. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Merriam Webster, the OED, Etymonline, How Stuff Works, Collins Dictionary, & Alamy.  After unexpectedly spending a couple rainy evenings rearranging the tarps on our roof & getting the bucket in the bedroom in just the right spot to catch the drips, why not look into the word roof? To begin with, I feel fortunate to have a roof (even if it’s not perfect). So many people don’t, & this is a tough season for rooflessness. The noun roof appeared in Old English. Forms of it exist in many Germanic languages, though hardworking etymologists haven’t successfully traced it back further than that. In English is has meant upper covering of a house, ceiling, highest point, top, summit, the sky, & heaven. In other Germanic languages its meanings include cover, deckhouse, cabin, penthouse, & coffin lid. Roof has applied to the top of the mouth since it first showed up in Old English. And the language is rife with roof idioms: Hit the roof. Raise the roof Through the roof Cat on a hot tin roof Under one roof Roof over one’s head Roof rats Roof came crashing down Take the roof off On the roof Roof fell in Snow on the roof I invite you all to appreciate roofs. They really do a lot of unsung good work. And if you have anything to say about the post, please do. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Merriam Webster, phrases.com, the OED, EngDic, Etymonline, & Megavtogal.  The verb touch appeared in English as early as 1300. It came through Old French from Vulgar Latin. Touch is crucial to human existence, so over the years touch has had many meanings: To move or reach so as to make direct physical contact with To touch, hit, knock, mention or deal with To pertain to To pass over To border on To lay hands upon with intent to heal To come close, to verge To make a brief stop on shore while traveling on water To extend to reach, or attain To affect physically To affect emotionally To stain, lay hands on for harm or cause injury or pain To handle or have to do with To be felt as the concern of To strike the keys or strings of an instrument To get or go as far as To meet without overlapping or penetrating To perceive to the tactile sense To attain equality with To partake of food To commit violence upon To draw or delineate with light strokes To leave a mark or impression on To take in hand To handle gentlly with the intent to understand or appreciate To hurt or wound the mind or feelings Idioms involving touch include: touch a sore spot touch & go touch base touch off touch down touchdown touch on something touch someone off touch something up touched in the head to be touched by something Anything I forgot to touch on? Big thanks to this week’s sources: the OED, Merriam Webster, Collins Dictionary, NTC’s American Idioms Dictionary, Etymonline, & Inspired Pencil.  How many letters can we English speakers squeeze into a one-syllable word? Here is a celebration of some of the winners: strengths scratched screeched squelched scrounged squeezed schlepped scrunched thronged scraunched squirrelled strengthed (archaic, but still English) And how about this one: broughammed (to have traveled via brougham) This last one’s arguable, as most English speakers are unaware of this word we’ve borrowed from French: Schtroumpfed (Schtroumpf is French for Smurf, so if it’s possible to be Smurfed, it should be possible to be Schtroumpfed) Big thanks to this week’s sources: Wordfinder, The Most 10, The Fact Base, & Adobe.  I hope you enjoy these thirteen idioms — twelve of the thirteen are new to me.
To throw one’s bonnet over the windmill — to act in a reckless manner To know chalk from cheese -- to be able to discern the difference between things that may appear similar As fine as frog’s hair — truly fine To take the gilt off the gingerbread — to spoil something that’s otherwise enjoyable In the ketchup — to be operating ‘in the red’ — to be losing money To think one’s cap is a helmet — to overestimate one’s ability or importance Pine overcoat — coffin To have the cockroach — to 'have the blues’ or suffer from depression Hiccius doccius — hocus pocus To cop a mouse — to get a black eye For the nonce — temporarily To slide in on a shrimp sandwich — to have things easy or 'be born with a silver spoon in one’s mouth' To wear a cat on one’s head — to pretend innocence I’d love to hear from those of you who’ve heard any of these before — comment away! Big thanks to this week’s sources: 7ESL, Mental Floss, Ultimate Lexicon, Red Fox Education, & Survey Monkey.  Every year, those who compile dictionaries let a few new entries in. Here are ten words & phrases that have offically entered the lexicon in 2025. Barbiecore — an aesthetic or style featuring the color pink goated — considered to be the greatest of all time broligarchy — a small group of rich, powerful men (usually tech wizards) who want or get political influence. invisible string theory — the idea that two people destined for one another are tied together by an invisible string that will eventually bring them together simp — to show excessive devotion to or longing for someone or something cooked — having achieved a state of failure digital sobriety -- the practice of reducing one’s use of technology to reduce environmental impact touch grass — to engage in the natural world, as opposed to the digital world naked quitting — leaving a job without having another job in the wings ate & left no crumbs -- to have performed something flawlessly May these fine new words & terms find users aplenty. Do any of them call for immediate use in your world? Big thanks to this week’s sources: Merriam Webster, OED, Collins Dictionary, AARP, & i.pinimg.  As the days grow shorter I find I have an increased appreciation for slumber. The verb slumber comes from Germanic sources & showed up in Old English meaning to doze, drowse, or sleep lightly. Doze came to English in the 1640s from a Scandinavian source & is related to dizzy. Doze means to sleep lightly or fitfully. In 1841, Dr. William Kitchener coined the idiom forty winks, meaning a short sleep. No one really knows why he chose forty over thirty or fifty. The verb nap, a short sleep, has been with us since Old English, likely from a Germanic source. English speakers have used the idiom shut-eye since 1899. It appears to have grown out of either a Hans Christian Andersen story called Ole’ Shut-eye or Eugene Fields’s poem, The Shut-Eye Train. We’ve used the word snooze since 1780. Etymologists haven’t nailed down the source, but many say it’s onomatopeoic for the sound of a snore. Hmmm. Repose came to English in the 1400s from Late Latin through Old French. It translates to to rest oneself. Rest comes from an Old English noun meaning couch. Please excuse me while I restfully rest on this restful rest. And sleep came to Old English from a Proto-Indo-European word meaning to be weak, to sleep. Sleeping is weak? I beg to differ. Any thoughts on all this snooziness? Feel free to comment. Big thanks to this week’s sources: Etymonline, Merriam Webster, the OED, Collins Dictionary, & i.pinimg.com. |
I write for teens & tweens, bake bread, play music, and ponder the wonder of words in a foggy little town on California's central coast.
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