Word of the Day Babbling
I strolled into the office this morning feeling more unmotivated than usual. It could have been the dreaded traffic I had to endure on the way here. It could have something to do with the changing of the seasons - my body's reaction to this grey, rainy weather after a summer of consistent sunshine and temperatures in the high 20's. Whatever the cause, I was not eager to open my inbox and to start tackling today's to-do list.
After sitting down on my balance ball chair, I take an exaggerated deep breath before booting up my computer. While I wait, I rip September 12th's page off of my Word of the Day calendar to reveal which linguistic treasure September 13, 2018 would offer.
Then there was that evening in early September of 2012. It was the night before I was boarding a flight to Halifax to start a new chapter of my life at University. Three of my best pals and I met at our local go-to swimming spot where the water of Burrard Inlet meets the water of Indian Arm. From that familiar dock, we took off every last piece of clothing and soaked up every minute of each-others company, in the night's dark ocean. This salt-water rinse symbolized the end of an era for us, and the start of a future so vast and so exciting that none of us could have even began to predict where our journeys would take us.
Thalassic - I think of my lonely but serene Christmas Day spent on the 200 meter-high coastal-eroded bluffs of Sagres, Portugal overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Gazing out at sea and contemplating that across that body of water is the continent of North America and across that large landmass somewhere in the community of Deep Cove, was my family sitting around a table having a feast and playing rounds of Rumikub. And there I sat, in absolute awe of the natural beauty surrounding me, while simultaneously being more aware than ever before of the distance that lay between me and my loved ones.
I reminisce of hiking the Cape Chignecto Trail along the Bay of Fundy one Thanksgiving weekend. Violent waves crashing into the rugged coastline, creating the most soothing of rhythms to guide the feet forward.
And this epic moment with Janer in the Lofoten archipelago, after spending the coldest night of my life camping on the breathtaking Kvalvika Beach.
And this unforgettable, crack-of-dawn climb up to St. Mark's Summit where Sabs and I went to honour the life of Zoe and secure a wooden memorial plaque up in the branches of a tree so that her spirit can be always watching out over the Howe Sounds, protecting the waters.
Something so simple as this daily world calendar - which I picked up one rainy afternoon at the Salvation Army thrift store on Hastings and Gilmore. It was sometime in April and that very day I had done a total reorganization of my office. When I saw this Word of the Day Desk Calendar, I was pleasantly surprised to see the year on the cover read "2018". Often times in thrift stores, I've found kitten-themed wall calendars more than 3 years out of date. This Word of the Day calendar - what a perfect addition to my newly organized desk.
Sometimes these daily words fascinate me. Sometimes, I spiral into a frenzy of thought after thought, until all of a sudden, I'm thinking about the time Ali was biking back from the grocery store with more produce than she'd anticipated. Not being able to fit it all into her backpack, she had to cycle with some plastic grocery bags hanging from her handlebars and before you know it, she was grating carrots with each rotation of her spokes, leaving a trail of grated carrot behind her. Shreds of orange root vegetable spewing from her bicycle as she pedaled up South Street.
Some of these words have great phonetical appeal:
Some of them have hilarious, bizarre, or outrageous definitions:
Some that I could certainly make use of in my daily vernacular:
Some are very relevant to current events:
Words that trigger precious memories, like:
Immediately, my thoughts jump to the kids of Iglulik, Nunavut who all had these things (pictured below) in their pant pockets... or inside their mouths. When we would question what these things are, they would say "caribou bugs", which didn't really clarify things for us "qallunaat" - white people. This did not reassure us that these things were safe for ingesting.
With our qallunaat disgust, we did a bit of research, to discover that these caribou bugs are in fact warble fly larvae infestations. Warble flies lay their eggs in the hair of caribou. Once the eggs hatch, the larvae penetrate the skin of the caribou and start a migration to the mammal's back. After months of this migration, when the larvae have reached the spine of the caribou, they cut a breathing hole through the skin, and exit the caribou's body, falling to the ground. Inuit children find these bizarre looking things all over the ground in the summertime, and so their
Basically, all this is to say, that I have taken great delight in the daily pondering that has occurred as a result of my Word of the Day calendar. It has provided an opportunity to escape reality for a few seconds, minutes, or longer. Or in other words:
After sitting down on my balance ball chair, I take an exaggerated deep breath before booting up my computer. While I wait, I rip September 12th's page off of my Word of the Day calendar to reveal which linguistic treasure September 13, 2018 would offer.
My mind wanders to some of my favourite memories of the sea. Dipping my toes into the frigid waters of the Atlantic ocean in Blackhead, Newfoundland while on a trip with my lovely mother and auntie. Jumping into the waters of the Howe Sounds during summers spent at my best friend's cabin on Keats Island. I have the most vivid memories of an afternoon spent on the shores of the Arctic Ocean, in the abandoned mining town of Nanisivik (ᓇᓂᓯᕕᒃ) which is situated 32km down a dirt road from Arctic Bay (ᐃᒃᐱᐊᕐᔪᒃ), a hamlet of under 1,000 people about 800 kilometers north of the Arctic Circle. On Nunavut Day (July 9) in 2015, my co-worker Isaiah's half brother who lives in Arctic Bay offered to take Corinne, Isaiah, and myself down to one of the most remote and spectacular places I have been in my life. On the shores of Strathcona Sound, we spent some hours of our Nunavut Day captivated by the possibility of seeing a narwhal or watching an iceberg drift by. The quiet, the peace, the stillness. It was unforgettable.thalassic
[thuh-las-ik]
adjective: Relating to the sea.
Then there was that evening in early September of 2012. It was the night before I was boarding a flight to Halifax to start a new chapter of my life at University. Three of my best pals and I met at our local go-to swimming spot where the water of Burrard Inlet meets the water of Indian Arm. From that familiar dock, we took off every last piece of clothing and soaked up every minute of each-others company, in the night's dark ocean. This salt-water rinse symbolized the end of an era for us, and the start of a future so vast and so exciting that none of us could have even began to predict where our journeys would take us.
Thalassic - I think of my lonely but serene Christmas Day spent on the 200 meter-high coastal-eroded bluffs of Sagres, Portugal overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Gazing out at sea and contemplating that across that body of water is the continent of North America and across that large landmass somewhere in the community of Deep Cove, was my family sitting around a table having a feast and playing rounds of Rumikub. And there I sat, in absolute awe of the natural beauty surrounding me, while simultaneously being more aware than ever before of the distance that lay between me and my loved ones.
I reminisce of hiking the Cape Chignecto Trail along the Bay of Fundy one Thanksgiving weekend. Violent waves crashing into the rugged coastline, creating the most soothing of rhythms to guide the feet forward.
And this epic moment with Janer in the Lofoten archipelago, after spending the coldest night of my life camping on the breathtaking Kvalvika Beach.
Something so simple as this daily world calendar - which I picked up one rainy afternoon at the Salvation Army thrift store on Hastings and Gilmore. It was sometime in April and that very day I had done a total reorganization of my office. When I saw this Word of the Day Desk Calendar, I was pleasantly surprised to see the year on the cover read "2018". Often times in thrift stores, I've found kitten-themed wall calendars more than 3 years out of date. This Word of the Day calendar - what a perfect addition to my newly organized desk.
Sometimes these daily words fascinate me. Sometimes, I spiral into a frenzy of thought after thought, until all of a sudden, I'm thinking about the time Ali was biking back from the grocery store with more produce than she'd anticipated. Not being able to fit it all into her backpack, she had to cycle with some plastic grocery bags hanging from her handlebars and before you know it, she was grating carrots with each rotation of her spokes, leaving a trail of grated carrot behind her. Shreds of orange root vegetable spewing from her bicycle as she pedaled up South Street.
Some of these words have great phonetical appeal:
collywobbles
[kol-ee-wob-uh lz]
noun: Intestinal cramps or other intestinal disturbances.
Some of them have hilarious, bizarre, or outrageous definitions:
struthious[stroo-thee-uh s]
adjective: Resembling or related to the ostriches or other ratite birds.
spitchcock
[spich-kok]
noun: An eel, split and then grilled or fried.
Some that I could certainly make use of in my daily vernacular:
doryphore
[dohr-ee-fawr, -fohr]
noun: A pedantic or annoyingly persistent critic of others.
snollygoster[snol-ee-gos-ter]
noun: A shrewd or unprincipled person.
cockalorum[kok-uh-lawr-uh m, -lohr-]
noun: A self-important man.
Some are very relevant to current events:
mumpsimus[muhmp-suh-muh s]Cough, cough: Having to stand during the playing of a colonial national anthem. Or patriotism in general... Removing a hat when entering a church. The gender wage-gap.
noun: A traditional custom or notion that is adhered to although it has been shown to be unreasonable.
Words that trigger precious memories, like:
bezoar[bee-zawr, -zohr]
noun: A small, hard, solid mass which may form in the stomachs of animals such as goats or sheep.
Immediately, my thoughts jump to the kids of Iglulik, Nunavut who all had these things (pictured below) in their pant pockets... or inside their mouths. When we would question what these things are, they would say "caribou bugs", which didn't really clarify things for us "qallunaat" - white people. This did not reassure us that these things were safe for ingesting.
With our qallunaat disgust, we did a bit of research, to discover that these caribou bugs are in fact warble fly larvae infestations. Warble flies lay their eggs in the hair of caribou. Once the eggs hatch, the larvae penetrate the skin of the caribou and start a migration to the mammal's back. After months of this migration, when the larvae have reached the spine of the caribou, they cut a breathing hole through the skin, and exit the caribou's body, falling to the ground. Inuit children find these bizarre looking things all over the ground in the summertime, and so their
Basically, all this is to say, that I have taken great delight in the daily pondering that has occurred as a result of my Word of the Day calendar. It has provided an opportunity to escape reality for a few seconds, minutes, or longer. Or in other words:
woolgathering[woo l-gath-er-ing]
noun: Indulgence in daydreaming.
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