The House of Jeroboam

21 February 202521 February 2025 By Simon

The other day I was looking for how to say confusion in Welsh, and one of the translations I found was (‘roedd popeth) fel tŷ Jeroboam, which means ‘(everything was) in confusion’, or literally ‘(everything was) like the house of Jeroboam’. This got me wondering who was Jeroboam, and way was his house in confusion?

According to Wikipedia, Jeraboam I, a.k.a. Jeraboam som of Nebat, was the first king of the northern Kingdom of Israel between c. 931/22-910/901 BC. During his 22-year reign, there was continual war between him and Rehoboam (רְחַבְעָם), the first king of Judah. So perhaps that’s why Jeraboam is associated with confusion.

The name Jeroboam comes from Hebrew יָרָבְעָם‎ (Yārŏḇʿām), which comes from רִיב‎ ‎ (rīḇ) and עַם‎‎ (ʿam). Possible meanings of the name include “the people contend”, “he pleads the people’s cause”, “his people are many” or “he increases the people”.

The word Jeroboam can also refer to a 3 litre bottle of champagne or Burgundy wine (a.k.a. double magnum), or a 4.5 litre bottle of Bordeaux wine (a.k.a. Rehoboam) [source].

Other names for wine / champagne bottle sizes include: Piccolo (0.1875 litres), Chopine (0.25 litres), Demi (0.5 litres), Magnum (1.5 litres), Imperial / Methuselah (6 litres), Salmanazar (9 litres), Balthazar / Belshazzar (12 litres), Nebuchadnezzar (15 litres), and Melchizedek / Midas (30 litres) [source].

Other ways to refer to confusion in Welsh include: dryswch, penbleth = confusion (of mind); anhrefn, tryblith, llanast(r), cybolfa, annibendod = confusion (disorder).

Other Welsh phrases that mean ‘(everything was) in confusion’, like (‘roedd popeth) fel tŷ Jeroboam, include:

(‘roedd popeth) blith draphlith = (everything was) topsy-turvy, higgledy-piggledy, mixed (up), in confusion, in a muddle
(‘roedd popeth) yn siop siafins = ‘(everything was) like a shop of (wood-)shavings’
(‘roedd popeth) yn draed moch = (everything was) was a mess, confusion, rack and ruin, disaster (‘like pigs feet’)
(‘roedd popeth) yn siang-di-fang = (everything was) higgledy-piggledy, topsy-turvy, extremely untidy, in confusion, mess, disorder.
(‘roedd popeth) ar gychwyn = ‘(everything was) about to start’
(‘roedd popeth) ar hyd y lle = ‘(everything was) all over the place’
(‘roedd popeth) yn garlibwns = ‘(everything was) a heap, an untidy mass, confusion, curd’
(‘roedd popeth) yn glamwri = ‘(everything was) grief, trouble, clamour’
(‘roedd popeth) yn gawdel = ‘(everything was) a caudle, hotchpotch, medley’
(‘roedd popeth) yn gabidwl/gabwdwl = ‘(everything was) chaos, confusion, disorder’

Sources: Geiriadur yr Academi and Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru.

Coming across the phrase (‘roedd popeth) fel tŷ Jeroboam also inspired me to write this song in Welsh called ‘Tŷ Jeroboam’. Here are the words – I’m still working on the tune:

Mae popeth yn garlibwns
yn garlibwns, yn garlibwns
Mae popeth yn garlibwns
yn tŷ Jeroboam

Mae popeth yn blith draphlith
yn blith draphlith, yn blith draphlith
Mae popeth yn blith draphlith
yn siop hen siafins

Mae popeth yn siang-di-fang
yn siang-di-fang, yn siang-di-fang
Mae popeth yn siang-di-fang
ar hyd y lle

Mae popeth yn gabwdwl
yn gabwdwl, yn gabwdwl
Mae popeth yn gabwdwl
yn tŷ Jeroboam

Are there interesting ways to talk about confusion in other languages?

By the way, this blog features on a list of the 100 Best Language Learning Blogs and Websites in 2025 compiled by FeedSpot.

Little Dishes

9 February 20259 February 2025 By Simon

Is the word plateau related to plate, platypus, plaza, pizza, place, flat and fold? Or is one of these words an odd one out? Let’s investigate.

Plateau [ˈplætəʊ / plæˈtoʊ] means:

A largely level expanse of land at a high elevation; tableland.
A comparatively stable level after a period of increase.
A notable level of attainment or achievement.
To reach a stable level after a period of increase; to level off.

It comes from French plateau (flat area, tray, plateau, stage, (TV) set, chain-ring), from plat (flat, flat area of ground, flat thing, a dish or course) [source] and the diminutive ending -eau, which can also be added to words like éléphant and zèbre to make éléphanteau (a young [male] elephant, calf) and zébreau (young zebra) [source].

Plat comes from Middle French plat (flat), from Old French plat (flat, a footbridge), from Vulgar Latin *plattus (flattened), from Ancient Greek πλατύς (platús – broad, flat), from Proto-Hellenic *plətús, from Proto-Indo-European *pléth₂us (flat, broad), from *pleth₂- (to spread, to extend, flat) [source].

Plate, platypus, plaza, place, flat and fold all probably come from the same roots, as do pit(t)a (bread), piazza, flan, field, plantain, and the name Plato [source].

The odd one out is pizza, which was borrowed from Neapolitan pizza, which comes from Byzantine Greek πίτα (píta – cake, pie), the origins of which are uncertain. Words from the same roots include пита (pita – round loaf, cake, pie, honeycomb) in Bulgarian, pită (bread, sustenance) in Romanian, pite (pie, tart) in Hungarian, and pide (traditional Turkish flatbread, Turkish pizza) in Turkish [source].

Hydraulic Plumbers

30 January 2025 By Simon

A lot of the words in Italian are similar to words in Spanish, French or other Romance languages I know, but quite often I come across a word that doesn’t seem familiar at all. For example, idraulico (plumber) – a bit different from plombier in French, plomero in Spanish.

Idraulico [iˈdraw.li.ko] means plumber, plumbing or hydraulic in Italian. It comes from Latin hydraulicus, from Ancient Greek ὑδραυλικός (hudraulikós – of a water organ), from ὕδραυλις (húdraulis – water organ), from ὕδωρ (húdōr – water) and‎ αὐλός (aulós – pipe) [source].

Words from the same roots include hydraulic, hydrate and hydrofoil in English, hydraulique (hydraulic) in French, and υδραυλικός (ydravlikós – plumber, hydraulic engineer, hydraulic) in Greek, hydraulik (plumber) in Polish [source].

The French word plombier (plumber, plumbing), the Spanish word plomero (plumber, plumbing), and the English words plumber and plumbing, all come from Latin plumbārius (plumber, of or pertaining to lead), from plumbum (lead [metal], pipe of lead), possibly from Ancient Greek μόλυβδος (mólubdos – lead), or from Proto-Celtic *ɸloudom (lead) [source].

Related words from the same roots include piombo (lead, grey, bullet), piombino ([lead] seal, sinker [weight], plummet) in Italian, plomb (lead [metal], fuse, sinker [fishing weight]) in French, Plombe (seal, lead seal [dental] filling) in German, and plwm (lead, leaden) in Welsh [source].

The Spanish word plomero is used for plumber in Argentina, Bolivia, Colombia, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Ecuador, Guatemala, Panama, Paraguay, Puerto Rico, Venezuela and Uruguay. Other Spanish words for plumber include: fontanero in Spain, Mexico, Colombia, Costa Rica, El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua, gásfiter in Chile, gasfitero in Ecuador and Peru, and tubero in the Philippines [source].

Are there interesting words for plumber in other languages?

Kinder Kinder

22 January 202522 January 2025 By Simon

There’s a joke / meme that goes something like No matter how kind you are … German children are Kinder.

from Imgflip Meme Generator

This is a bilingual pun – in German Kinder means children, while in English kinder means nicer, more gentle, generous, affectionate, etc. These two words look alike, but are they related? Let’s find out.

The German word Kind (child, kid, offspring) comes from Middle-High German kint (child), from Old High German kind (child, descendants), from Proto-West-Germanic *kind (child), from Proto-Germanic *kindą, *kinþą (child), from Pre-Germanic *ǵénh₁tom, from Proto-Indo-European *ǵenh₁- (to produce, beget, give birth) [source].

Kind in English means such things as having a benevolent, courteous, friendly, generous, gentle, liberal, sympathetic or warm-hearted nature or disposition; affectionate, favourable, mild, gentle or forgiving. It can also mean a type, category (What kind of nonsense is this?); goods or services used as payment (They paid me in kind), or a makeshift or otherwise atypical specimen (The box served as a kind of table).

Kind as in benevolent comes from Middle English kinde, kunde, kende (kind, type, sort), while kind as in type comes from Middle English cunde (kind, nature, sort) / kynde (one’s inherent nature; character, natural disposition), and both come from Old English cynd (sort, kind, type, gender, generation, race) / ġecynd (nature, kind, class), from Proto-West-Germanic *kundi / *gakundiz, from Proto-Germanic *kinþiz (kind, race), from Proto-Indo-European *ǵénh₁tis (birth, production), from *ǵenh₁- (to produce, beget, give birth) [source].

So, the German Kind and the English kind do ultimately come from the same roots. Are German Kinder kinder though, or are they the Wurst, and somewhat gross?

Other words produced, beget and given birth to by the Proto-Indo-European root *ǵenh₁- include: kind (child), koning (king, monarch) and kunne (gender, sex) in Dutch, cognate, engine(er), gender, gene, general, genesis, genetic, genial, genius, gentle, kin, king, nature, oxygen and progeny in English, König (king) in German, nascere (to be born, bud, sprout) in Italian, gentis (tribe, genus, family, kin) in Lithuanian, geni (to be born, birth) in Welsh [source].

Incidentally, the English word child is not related to the German word Kind. It comes from Middle English child (baby, infant, toddler, child, offspring), from Old English ċild (child, baby), from Proto-West Germanic *kilþ, *kelþ, from Proto-Germanic *kelþaz (womb; fetus), from Proto-Indo-European *ǵelt- (womb), or from Proto-Indo-European *gel- (to ball up, amass). It is related to kuld (brood, litter) in Danish, and kelta (lap) in Icelandic though, and possibly kalt (cold, chilly, calm) and kühl (cool, calm, restrained) in German [source].

Travelling Hopefully

15 January 2025 By Simon

They say that it’s better to travel hopefully than to arrive, or something similar, but who said this first? Where does this idea come from?

According to Phrase Finder, this phrase is attributed to Robert Louis Stevenson, who wrote in an essay entitled El Dorado in Virginibus Puerisque, published in 1881:

“Little do ye know your own blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive, and the true success is to labour.”

A similar sentiment apparently appears in the Taoist proverb “The journey is the reward”, by Laozi (老子), the semi-legendary 6th century BC Chinese philosopher and founder of Taoism. However, I haven’t found the reference yet. He did write “the journey of a thousand li* commenced with a single step” [千里之行，始於足下] [source].

A li [里], is a traditional Chinese unit of distance made up of 1,500 chi [尺]. The distances represented by the measures has varied over time. The li now has a standardized length of 500 metres (1,640″), and traditionally it was about the length of a single village [source], while the chi is ⅓ of a metre, or 33⅓ cm [source].

On my recent travels by train in the UK, there have been many delays and cancellations. Each time I’ve arrived at my destination, but usually an hour or two late. Fortunately, I’ve received full or partial refunds from the train companies in most cases. When I travel, I always travel hopefully, hoping that I’ll arrive on time, or at least arrive the same day. I make the most of the journeys, reading, listing to audiobooks, studying languages, and watching the scenery go by. Sometimes I even get into conversations with other travellers, though I’m not good at starting them. Maybe I should see my journeys as epic quests.

Are you a hopeful traveller?

Pasting Meals

7 January 20257 January 2025 By Simon

The Italian words pasto and pasta look and sound similar, but are they related? Let’s find out.

Pasto [ˈpa.sto] means meal, and comes from Latin pāstus (fed, nourished, consumed, pastured, satiated, satisfied), from pāscor (to feed oneself, to eat, graze, feed, nourish, pasture, browse, from Proto-Italiac *pāskōr (I am fed, driven to pasture) from Proto-Indo-European *peh₂- (to protect, ward, shepherd) [source].

Words from the same roots include feed, fodder, food, pasture and repast in English, paître (to graze), repas (meal), and possibly pain (bread) in French, pascere (to graze) in Italian, and pasto (pasture, lawn, grass) in Spanish [source].

Pasta [ˈpa.sta] in Italian means dough, pastry, pasta, cake or paste, and can also refer to the nature or mo(u)ld of a person, e.g. sone tutt’e due delle stessa pasta = they’re both cast from the same mo(u)ld [source].

Here are some examples of how the word pasta is used in Italian:

pasta in brodo = noodle soup
pasta fatta in casa = home-made pasta
pasta frolla = shortcrust pastry
pasta sfoglia = puff pastry
pasta all’uovo = egg pasta
pasta dentifricia = toothpaste
pasta di mandorle = almond paste

It comes from Late Latin pasta (paste, pasta), from Ancient Greek παστά (pastá – barley porridge), from παστός (pastós – sprinkled with salt), from πάσσω (pássō – to sprinkle), from Proto-Indo-European *(s)kʷeh₁t- (to shake).

Words from the same roots include παστός (pastós – salted, preserved with salt, corned) in Greek, quash (to defeat decisively, suppress, void) in English, quassare (to shake, agitate) in Italian, casser (to break) in French, and , cascar (to crack, split) in Spanish [source].

In British English, pasta refers to Italian pasta, that is, dough made from wheat and water and sometimes mixed with egg and formed into various shapes; often sold in dried form and typically boiled for eating [source]. Types of Italian pasta include calamarata, cannelloni, farfalle, fettuccine, fusilli, gnocchi, lasagne, linguine, macaroni, orecchie d’asini, orecchiette, penne, radiatori, spaghetti, tagliatelle, tortellini, vesuvio, and vermicelli [source].

One of those types of pasta I made up. Do you know which one?

In American English, the word noodle(s) apparently can refer both to Italian pasta, and Asia noodles, while in the UK, noodle(s) normally only refers to Asia noodles, such as Japanese ramen. What about in other varieties of English?

Satorial Tailoring

1 January 2025 By Simon

What links the word satorial with the words tailor in various languages? Let’s find out.

The word sartorial means:

Of or relating to the tailoring of clothing.
Of or relating to the quality of dress.
Of or relating to the sartorius muscle ( a long muscle in the leg.

It comes from New Latin sartorius (pertaining to a tailor), from Late Latin sartor (mender, patcher, tailor), from Latin sarcire (to patch, mend), sarciō (to patch, botch, mend, repair, restore, to make amends, recompense), from Proto-Indo-European *serḱ- (to mend, make good, recompense) [source].

Words from the same roots include sastre (tailor) in Spanish, Tagalog and Chavacano, xastre (tailor) in Asturian, Galician and Portuguese, sarto (tailor) in Italian, sertir (to crimp, set, socket [jewellery]) and the surname Sartre in French, and the obsolete English word sartor (tailor) [source].

The English word tailor, which refers to a person who makes, repairs, or alters clothes professionally, especially suits and men’s clothing, comes from Middle English taillour (tailor), from Anglo-Norman tailloru (tailor), from Old French tailleor (tailor), from taillier (to cut, shape), from Late Latin tāliō (retaliation, to cut, prune), from Latin tālea (rod, stick, stake, a cutting, twig, sprig), the origins of which are uncertain [source].

Related words include tally (any account or score kept by notches or marks) in English, taille (size, waist) and tailler (to cut) in French, Teller (plate, dish) in German, táille (fee, charge) in Irish, talea (cutting, scion) in Italian, and taior (woman’s suit) in Romanian tajar (to cut, slice, chop) in Spanish [source].

I was inspired to write this post after learning that tailor in Spanish is sastre, and wondering where it comes from.

By the way, Happy New Year! Blwyddyn newydd dda! Bonne année ! ¡Feliz Año Nuevo! 新年快樂！新年快乐！ Felice anno nuovo! 新年おめでとうございます! Bliain úr faoi shéan is faoi mhaise duit! Bliadhna mhath ùr! Blein Vie Noa! Ein gutes neues Jahr! Feliĉan novan jaron! Поздравляю с Новым Годом! Šťastný nový rok! Godt nytår! Gott nytt år! La Mulți Ani! Onnellista uutta vuotta! 🎆🎉🥂🥳

Swords & Spades

19 December 2024 By Simon

What links the word epee (a type of sword) with the word spade? Let’s find out.

An epee / épée is a sharp-pointed duelling sword with a bell-shaped guard, used (with the end blunted) in sport fencing (pictured above).

The word comes from French épée (sword, glaive), from Middle French espee (sword), from Old French espee (sword), from Latin spatha (spatula, spattle, a long two-edged, straight sword typically carried by Roman cavalry officers, batten, a kind of tree), from Ancient Greek σπάθη (spáthē – any broad blade, of wood or metal), from Proto-Hellenic *spátʰā (blade), from Proto-Indo-European *sph₂-dʰh₁-éh₂, from *(s)peh₂- (to draw) + *dʰeh₁- (to do, put) + *-eh₂ (a feminine ending) [source].

The Proto-Germanic word spadô (spade) comes from the same PIE roots, and from that we get words like spade in English, spade (spade) in Dutch, Spaten (spade, idiot) in German, spade (shovel, spade) in Swedish, and spaði (a small shovel, spade, paddle, racket) in Icelandic [source].

The Greek word σπαθί (sword, club [in cards]) comes from the same Ancient Greek root, as does the Bulgarian word спатия (spatíja – suit of clubs), which was borrowed from Greek [source].

Other words from the same Latin root (spatha) include spatula in English, épaule (shoulder) and spatule (spatula, spoonbill) in French, spada (sword, epee) in Italian, espasa (sword, epee) in Catalan, espada (sword, epee) and espalda (back, backstroke) in Spanish, and ezpata (sword) in Basque. The words for sword all refer to the suit of clubs in cards in the plural [source].

Feeling Whelmed

11 December 202411 December 2024 By Simon

You can be overwhelmed and underwhelmed, but can you just be whelmed?

Overwhelmed comes from the verb to overwhelm, which means to engulf, surge over, submerge, overpower (emotionally), crush, cause to surround or to cover. So when you feel overwhelmed, you might feel crushed, overpowered or engulfed by everything [source].

Underwhelmed comes from to underwhelm, which means to fail to impress or perform disappointingly. It was coined in the 1950s as a humorous negation of overwhelm. I hope you won’t be too underwhelmed by this blog post. [source].

Both to overwhelm and to underwhelm come from to whelm, an old word that means to bury, cover, engulf, submerge, ruin, destroy or overcome with emotion. As a noun, whelm means a surge of water or a wooden drainpipe. They come from Middle English whelmen (to turn over, capsize, invert, turn upside down), perhaps from Old English *hwealmnian, a variant of *hwealfnian, from hwealf (arched, concave, vaulted), from Proto-West Germanic *hwalb, from Proto-Germanic *hwalbą (arch, vault), from Proto-Indo-European *kʷelp- (to curve) [source].

Related words include unwhelm (to raise (sb) up from under something that has overwhelmed them), and whelming (something that covers or submerges).

Words from the same roots include gulf in English, Walm (bevelled roof, particularly if triangular and in a gable) in German, welven (to arch, bend like an arch, be shaped like an arch) in Dutch, valv (vault, arch) in Swedish, and cupla (fault, guilt, blame) in Spanish [source].

Guillemets & Goats

7 December 20247 December 2024 By Simon

What do you call these things « », and do you use them at all?

There are several names for « », including guillemets, angle quotes, duckfoot quotes, chevrons and double angle quotation marks.

The word guillemet [ˈɡɪləmɛt / ˈɡiːmeɪ / ˌɡiː(j)əˈmeɪ] comes from French, and is a diminutive form of the French name Guillaume (William). They are named after Guillaume Le Bé (1525 – 1598), a French printer and typecutter, although he probably didn’t invent them. They first appeared in 1527 in a book printed by Josse Bade (1462 – 1535), a Flemish printer [source], and are used as quotation marks in Albanian, Breton, Catalan, Estonian, French, Galician, Greek, Italian, Kurdish and various other languages [source].

The word chevron comes from Middle English cheveroun (a device in the shape of an inverted V), from Old French chevron (rafter), from Vulgar Latin *capriō (goat), caper (goat) [source]. Apparently, goat’s horns look like the rafters of a shallow roof, and the word chevron in French can refer to sloping pieces of wood used in roofing [source].

I was inspired to write this post after seeing chevrons on the road while driving through Storm Darragh, which is currently lashing the UK with high winds and heavy rain. Fortunately, the journey went safely despite the weather.

There may be fewer Omniglot up-dates and blog posts over the next few weeks due to Christmas preparations, and sorting things out after my mum sadly died at the age of 84 last weekend.

Omniglot Blog

Adventures in the world of words and language

Category: Words and phrases