Saturday, February 22, 2014

Inspirations Part Two: Turns of Phrase

Bruce has a way with words. Molly was Bruce's muse. Over the years phrases entered our household through the happy confluence of Molly's preferences and Bruce's gift.

"Self-Heating Meat Cushion" -- How Bruce imagined Molly saw us. 



"Companion Animals" -- How we described our relationship with Molly.




"Mount Comfy" -- the collection of blankets and pillows at one end of the couch that were the sole dominion of the dog, unless we had company.


Three pillows, two blankets, one dog. This is Schatzi, Molly's cousin on a visit to our old condo.

And here's the gracious hostess happily surrendering her spot to her guest, but keeping an eye on it, too.


***************










On 6 February 2011, I sent out this meditation on Molly's many names.

Everyone has heard the faux factoid that “Eskimos have 200 words for snow.”

Of course this is not true, and, while Wikipedia proposes a mention in the New York Times in1984 as the factoid’s first official sighting, I know that my father, who travelled north to the land of the Eskimos many times, told us that very thing when we were kids in Edmonton. So, easily a decade or more before the New York Times mention, families were gathered around the kitchen table wisely noting the remarkable fact that Eskimos have 200 words for snow.

Why would people light on such a fanciful notion? I can’t speak for any others, but I know why it appealed to me. It allowed me to imagine that there were people in the world so connected to their surroundings that they could see such distinct differences in a thing – frozen water that has fallen from the sky for example – that they could come up with myriad words for it. The factoid connoted a human appreciation for the world that I thought I would like to emulate.

Thinking on this recently, I noticed that, in English, we have a lot of words for money and even more for being drunk. And, in this household, we have approximately 200 (give or take) words for the dog. In no particular order, here are the ones used in the last forty-eight hours:

Molly – Molly-the-Dog – Molly Dog – Bittie Bud – Bud  Bug – Bed Bug – Bed Hog – Wart Hog (she has a lot of warts) – Little Bug – Sweetie Bug – Silly – Silly Dog – Silly Old Dog – Sweetie – Stinky – Tripod (she goes up the stairs on three legs) – Eye Booger Factory – My Girl – My Little Girl – My Old Girl – My Little Old Girl – Trip Hazard – Pup – Pup Dog – Twinkle Toes.

Along with turns of phrase and fond nicknames, Molly inspired works of art, which you can see here.

Karen
 

No comments: