La gueule de bois

This week I discovered that in French a hangover is une gueule de bois (“a wooden mouth”), which seems quite a good description of the condition.

In my thesaurus word for hangover in English include after-effects, katzenjammer, morning after, and the morning after the night before. Do you have any others?

I’ve heard of katzenjammer before, but not in this context – to me it’s the name of a band from Norway. Katzenjammer comes from German and means “cats’ wailing”, and according to the Free Dictionary, it means a confused uproar or a hangover, mainly in US English.

Welsh words for hangover include pen mawr (big head); pen clwc (addled head), salwch bore drannoeth (illness of the following morning) and salwch ar ôl y ffair (illness after the fair).

Since I gave up drinking about 11 years ago I haven’t suffered from a wooden mouth, an addled head or a cats’ wailing, and one reason why I gave up was because I didn’t enjoy such afflictions.

Everything but the kitchen sink

The phrase ‘everything but the kitchen sink’ indicates many things or almost everything, as in ‘I took everything but the kitchen sink with me on holiday. The OED gives the earliest use of the phrase in writing as 1965. The kitchen sink part of the phrase apparently comes from army slang and appears in Partridge’s 1948 Dictionary of Forces’ Slang as “Kitchen sink, used only in the phrase indicating intense bombardment ‘They chucked everything they’d got at us except, or including, the kitchen sink.’”

According to Know Your Phrase, however, it appeared in The Syracuse Herald, an New York newspaper in 1918 in the following sentence.

“I have I shall rather enjoy the experience, though the stitlons are full of people trying to get out and the streets blocked with perambulators, bird cages and ‘everything but the kitchen sink.'”

I discovered yesterday that the French equivalent is ‘tout sauf les murs‘ (everything but the walls), as in j’ai tout emporté sauf les murs = I took everything but the walls.

In Welsh the equivalents are popeth dan haul (everything under the sun) and eich holl drugareddau (your whole bric-a-brac).

Are there equivalent idioms in other languages?

Les mots de la semaine

français English Cymraeg Brezhoneg
le filet net rhwyd tanavenn
le siège (chair, stool, toilet); la place (on bus/train); la selle (bicycle) seat sedd seziz
la hache d’arme battleaxe bwyell ryfel; cadfwyell kadvouc’hal
le virago battleaxe (quarrelsome woman) hen sguthan; hen arthes oz(h)ac’hwreg
le coucou cuckoo cwcw; cog koukoug
la pendule à coucou cuckoo clock cloc cwcw
le loutre otter dyfrgi dourgi
le slip underpants trôns; drafers bragez vihan
les caleçons; les longs longjohns / leggings trôns llaes; drafers hir bragoù-dindan
le (chapeau) haut-de-forme top hat het silc
le (chapeau) melon bowler hat het galed; het gron (galed) tog-meloñs; tok pompad
le chapeau mou trilby het feddal; het drilbi
le dent; la roue dentée cog dant; cocsyn; olwyn ddannedd rod dantek
être un rouage de la machine to be (only) a cog in a machine bod neb o bwys yn y drefn
la gargote greasy spoon, cheap restaurant bwyty bwyd loddin; bwyty rhad tarzhell
j’ai tout emporté sauf les murs I’ve packed everything but the kitchen sink popeth dan haul; eich holl drugareddau
la gouttière guttering landeri; landerydd; bargod kan-dour
le jardin d’hiver conservatory ty gwydr; ystafell wydr jardin go(u)añv
la croisière cruise mordaith; criws merdeadenn
être en maraude to cruise (for customers, i.e. taxi)

Coal biter

kol-bitr in Elder Futhark and Younger Futhork

I learnt an interesting word in Old Norse recently: kol-bitr (“coal-biter”), which refers to an idle person who always sits by the fire. kol = coals, charcoal, and bitr = biting, snapping; cutting, sharp [source].

In Elder Futhark runes this is ᚲᛟᛚ᛫ᛒᛁᛏᚱ and in Younger Futhork runes it’s ᚴᚫᛚ᛫ᛓᛁᛐᚱ.

A visitor to Omnglot asked me about this expression and how to write it in Runes. I thought I’d post it here to show the kinds of questions that stream in to Omniglot HQ. I never know what I’ll be asked, and do my best to answer whatever questions come my way, and I’ve become pretty good at finding information, no matter how obscure.

It’s on the knitting needles

Yesterday I discovered that the Welsh idiom, ar y gweill, which can be translated as ‘in the pipeline’, ‘on the way’, ‘in hand’ or ‘underway’ literally means “on the knitting needles”. It’s the plural of gweillen (knitting needle). To knit is gwau or gweu, and a knitter is gwëwr, gweuwr or gwëydd.

Here are some examples of how it is used (from MyMemory translated.net):

– Mae hynny ar y gweill = That has been set in place
– Mae cynlluniau ar y gweill = Plans are in the pipeline
– Mae’r paratoadau ar y gweill = Preparations for this are underway
– Mae’r trafodaethau hyn ar y gweill = These discussions are in hand

I don’t think I’ve come across any knitting-related idioms like this before, so it caught my attention. Do you know any knitting related idioms?

What do you mean by grammar?

A lot of discussions on how to learn languages mention grammar – whether it should be learnt overtly at all; whether it should be introduced gradually from the start, or only after one has a some knowledge of the new language, and so on.

There are often asides about how English-speaking people, especially the younger generations of English speakers, don’t even know the grammar of their own language.

What people mean by grammar is rarely discussed or defined, as it is assumed that everyone knows what grammar is, don’t they?

The OED has the following on grammar:

“That department of the study of a language which deals with its inflexional forms or other means of indicating the relations of words in the sentence, and with the rules for employing these in accordance with established usage; usually including also the department which deals with the phonetic system of the language and the principles of its representation in writing.

In early English use grammar meant only Latin grammar, as Latin was the only language that was taught grammatically. In the 16th century there are some traces of a perception that the word might have an extended application to other languages; but it was not before the 17th century that it became so completely a generic term that there was any need to speak explicitly of ‘Latin grammar’. Ben Jonson’s book, written c1600, was applied the first to treat of ‘English grammar’ under that name.

As above defined, grammar is a body of statements of fact — a ‘science’; but a large portion of it may be viewed as consisting of rules for practice, and so as forming an ‘art’. The old-fashioned definition of grammar as ‘the art of speaking and writing a language correctly’ is from the modern point of view in one respect too narrow, because it applies only to a portion of this branch of study; in another respect, it is too wide, and was so even from the older point of view, because many questions of ‘correctness’ in language were recognized as outside the province of grammar: e.g. the use of a word in a wrong sense, or a bad pronunciation or spelling, would not have been called a grammatical mistake. At the same time, it was and is customary, on grounds of convenience, for books professedly treating of grammar to include more or less information on points not strictly belonging to the subject.”

It seems that when people say that (other) English speakers don’t know their grammar, what they mean is that they might not be familiar with grammatical terms, such as subject, object, adverb, declension, etc, and/or that they do not always use standard language, or at least that they do not speak or write in the way that the critics believe they should.

In terms of language learning, grammar can refer to verb conjugations, noun declensions and other ways that words change to indicate such things as person, number, tense, mood, etc. So saying that Chinese ‘has no grammar’ indicates that it has no inflections.

What do you mean when you talk about grammar?

Les mots de la semaine

français English Cymraeg Brezhoneg
la brute; le tyran bully bwli tirant
tyraniser; rudoyer; intimider to bully gormesu; bwlio gaiet gante; abafiñ
la laisse lead tennyn roll
le pont deck (of ship) bwrdd pont
la passerelle (de commandement) bridge (of ship) pont (lywio) pontenn
l’arête (f) / le dos bridge (of nose) cefn ker
le chevalet bridge (of violin) pont pontig
quand le chat n’est pas là, les souris dansent when the cat’s away the mice will play llon llygod lle ni bo cath

Bimbling

I came across the wonderful word bimble (/bɪmbəl/) yesterday for the first time and guessed it meant something like “to do something in a relaxed fashion”. The OED defines it as “To move at a leisurely pace, esp. on foot; to amble, wander.” and cites a book by R. McGowan & J. Hands called Don’t Cry for Me, Sergeant Major from 1983 as its earliest appearance in writing. Elsewhere in the OED suggests that though the word is thought to have been coined by British soliders in the Falklands, it might have come from the northeast of England.

Wiktionary defines it as “A gentle, meandering walk with no particular haste or purpose.” (noun), and “To walk with no particular haste or purpose.” (verb). It might be a variant on bumble.

Have you heard it before?

I like words like this that end in mble, such as bumble, amble, fumble, scramble, bramble and thimble. To me the combination of sounds in them is pleasing to the ear.

Tuning in

I went to a concert featuring poems and songs in Shetland dialect last night – some new, some old, some serious, and some frivolous and very funny. I was able to follow most of the words, but there were some that I didn’t understand, including some of the funny bits, so sometimes when everyone else was laughing, I was wondering what the jokes were.

Some of the performers were more difficult to understand than others, as there is quite a bit of dialect and accent variation between different parts of Shetland that I’m not used to yet. The Whalsay dialect is reputedly the most difficult to understand, and the one people from other parts of Shetland make fun of.

My ears and brain are gradually tuning in to the Shetland dialects and accents, a bit like a radio tuning in to different stations. My understanding of them is on a similar level to my understanding of Irish, Manx and Scottish Gaelic at the moment – I can get most of them when I really concentrate, and some words which I don’t understand the first time make sense when I hear them again in a slightly different context. Sometimes I find it helps to de-focus slightly and to let the words flow in without worrying that I don’t understand all of them.

Slockit

I’m currently in Lerwick for the Shetland Folk Festival,and at a concert last night I heard some interesting Shetland dialect being spoken and sung.

One word I particularly liked was slockit, which means ‘gone out, extinguished’. It appears in the title of a tune by Tom Anderson, Da Slockit Light, which he was inspired to write after seeing how many of the houses in his home village at Eshaness were dark. He thought about the people who use to live there and how they have moved away or passed. For me it’s fascinating to hear the stories behind tunes and songs like this.

I also discovered today that there is an online dictionary of Shetland dialect with recordings on shetlanddialect.org.uk. Some other interesting Shetland words I came across there include:

slurd = small, driving rain
skutamillaskroo = the game of hide-and-seek played among the cornstacks in the yard
skurtfoo = an armful. e.g. He cam in wi a skurtfoo o paets for da fire.