Les mots de la semaine

By Simon

– mégalithe (m) = megalith = megalith / maen mawr
– menhir (m) = standing stone = maen hir
– dolmen (m) = dolmen = dolmen / cromlech
– tombe (f) tombeau (m) = tomb = bedd
– faire dévier de son sujet / distraire / dérouter = to sidetrack = gwrthdynnu / troi o’r neilltu
– s’écarter de son sujet = to get sidetracked
– en liquide = in cash = ym mhres / yn arian parod
– payer comptant = to pay cash = talu drwy/ag arian parod
– petite caisse = petty cash = arian pitw/mân
– argent liquide = ready cash = arian/pres parod
– monnaie (f) = change = newid (?)
– guérir = to cure (illness, problem, habit) = iacháu / gwella
– remède (m) = a cure = iachâd / gwellhad
– agent secret = secret agent = asiant cudd
– sous contrôle = under control = dan rheolaeth
– c’est une honte! = it’s a disgrace! = mae’n waradwydd!
– grange (f) = barn = ysgubor
– injection (f) piqûre (f) = injection = pigiad

Cars, carts and chariots

By Simon

Last week I was told that the English word car originally comes from the Irish word carr (donkey cart). Apparently when cars came to Ireland Irish speakers thought it was better to come up with a new word for them than to name them after the humble donkey cart, so the term gluaisteán (‘moving thing’) was coined. I hadn’t heard about this before so thought I’d check it.

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary the English word car has been used to refer to a wheeled vehicle since 1300 and comes from the Old Northern French word carre, from the Latin carrum/carrus, which originally referred to a two-wheeled Celtic war chariot, from the Gaulish word karros, from the Proto-Indo-European word *krsos, from the root *kers- (to run).

There are related words in Welsh carr (cart, wagon), and in Breton: karr (chariot, cart), in Cornish: karr (car), in Manx: carr (car), in Spanish and Italian: carro (cart, wagon) and probably in other languages.

The word chariot comes from the same root as car, but cart probably comes from the Old Norse word kart-r (cart), according to the OED.

Another vehicle-related word we discussed last week is carbad (chariot), from the Old Irish carpat (war-chariot, waggon). It is related to the Welsh cerbyd (vehicle, car, carriage, coach), the Old Breton cerpit, the Gaulish carpentoracte, from the Latin corbis (basket), from carpentum (two wheeled chariot), which was probably borrowed from Gaulish. The root idea is ‘wicker’, referring to the basket character of the body of these chariots.

Counting rhymes

By Simon

We learnt this Irish counting rhyme in class today:

Lúrabóg lárabóg
Ladhra buithe
Buíeán Eoghain
Eoghean an Phreabáin
Preabán suilí
Súilí saic

The first two words are made up nonsense words, the others mean something like, “yellow toes, Eoghain’s egg yolk, Jack-in-the-Box, ??, eyelets of a sack”.

There are quite a few other rhymes like this in Irish. Do any of you know them, or counting rhymes in other languages?

One I know in English is:

Eenie, meenie, minie, mo.
Catch a tigger by his toe.
If he squeals, let him go.
Eenie, meenie, minie, mo.

I haven’t seen it written down before and I’m sure there are different ways to spell the words, and different versions of this rhyme. A Latin version was discussed in class, but unfortunately I didn’t write it down.

There are various theories about the origin is rhymes like this, but as most of them have been passed on from generation to generation of children with each generation changing them, we cannot be sure where they originally came from.

Deiseal agus tuathal

By Simon

Yesterday we discussed the Irish words deiseal (/ˈdʲɛʃəl/) and tuathal (/’tuəhəl/) in class. Deiseal means clockwise, dextral, right-hand, rightward, starboard, and tuathal means the opposite: anticlockwise, sinistral left-hand, leftward, port.

Some examples of usage:
– bogadh ar deiseal = to go in a clockwise direction
– dul deiseal = to go in a rightward direction
– fad is a bheas grian ag dul deiseal = whilst the sun follows its course
– ag bogadh ar tuathal = going in an anticlockwise direction
– cúl tuathail = own goal

They are related to the course of the sun, and date back to a time when the sun was thought to move around the earth from east to west. The course of the sun was considered the correct, right and good direction or deiseal, while the opposite direction tuathal was considered the wrong and bad direction. Buildings were built facing towards the rising sun, and adhering to these directions was thought to bring luck and prosperity.

The word deasil also exists in English, though isn’t commonly used. The opposite is widdershins or withershins.

Deiseal comes from the Old Irish word dessel, which means ‘direction of the sun, right-hand course, and comes from dess (right) and sel (turn).

Tuathal comes from the Old Irish word túaithbel, which means ‘a turning lefthandwise, against the sun, withershins’ and is a combination of túath (northern; left, on the left; perverse, wicked, evil) and sel (turn).

Source: Early Irish History and Mythology, T. F. O’Rahilly, via Wiktionary, and eDIL.

Do other languages have words for directions with similar roots?

Gleann Cholm Cille

By Simon

I returned to Bangor from the Isle of Man yesterday after a very enjoyable week at Yn Chruinnaght. I spoke and sang lots of Manx, and heard all the other Celtic languages, except Breton, being spoken and/or sung. I also spoke a bit of French and German, and even some English.

I was even inspired to write a new song while I was there, which is even sillier than my previous efforts.

Today I arrived in Gleann Cholm Cille for the Summer School in Irish language and Culture at Oideas Gael, so am now switching to Irish mode. During the week I’m here blog posts, up-dates on Omniglot and replies to emails might become somewhat sporadic.

It’s blowing a hoolie

By Simon

Yesterday I spotted the interesting expression ‘it’s blowing a hoolie‘ on a friend’s facebook page. From the context I guessed it meant that it was very windy.

According to A Way with Words, to blow a hoolie means ‘(of weather) to storm; to forcefully gust, blow, and rain.’ It is perhaps connected to hooley, which is defined by Cassell’s Dictionary of Slang as “a rip-roaring party” and comes from Ireland.

The OED suggests that hoolie /hu(:)li/ comes from the Orkney Scots word hoolan (strong gale), from an unattested Norn form of the Old Icelandic ýlun (howling, wailing).

Have you come accross this expression before, or do you use it? Do you have any other expressions for describing windy, stormy weather?

Chaos

By Simon

I came up with this song this week while contemplating the phrase ‘my hovercraft is full of eels‘, as you do, and thinking what other things might be filled with animals. That phrase doesn’t feature in the song, but there are plenty of other similarly useful phrases in it.

The tune came to me as I was writing it, and I later discovered that it was similar to the tune to the song ‘Give me the bus fare to Laxey‘, which I heard for the first time on Sunday in Ramsey, and probably to other songs. I wrote quite a bit of if while in Laxey and waiting for a bus to Ramsey.

The song is about those who cause chaos wherever they go. I haven’t identified any particular people, but you probably know one or two like that, or maybe you’re one of them.

Chaos
The attic is overflowing with aardvarks
The bath is brimful of baboons
The curtains are covered in custard
And mustard drips from all the spoons

The table is teaming with turnips
And the potatoes are eyeing the peas
The cushions are crammed with creamcrackers
And the cat’s eaten all of the cheese.

There are dogs playing poker in the pantry
And smoking fine Cuban cigars
As soon as they run out of money
They’ll be racing around in toy cars

The sink is swimming with penguins
And the fridge is flowing with fudge
There are ferrets fooling round in the cellar
And the carpets have all turned to sludge

I should have learnt my lesson
I should never have left them alone
I only popped out for ten minutes
And look what they’ve done to my home

Wherever they’ve been there is chaos
And wherever they are there is more
I only popped out for ten minutes
And now I can’t get through the door.

Here’s a recording:

When I’ve worked out the chords, I’ll record it with accompaniment.