Gotta say, I love the word “balderdash.” (Though I have a hard time ‘hearing’ the word without imagining a top-hatted English gentleman huffing it in an upper-crust accent, LOL.) And it has a long history with the English language. =)

Balderdash came into English round about the 1590s, though its origins are misty. Originally it was the name of a drink–a mixture of liquors like milk and beer or beer and wine (eww). It was in the 1670s that it got applied to a senseless jumble of words.

Looking at its parts, it appears that the “balder” is from the Danish word that means “noise, rumble” and the “dash” is from the Scandinavian word, which originally carried the meaning like in dash to pieces. It gained the “move quickly” meaning in the 1300s. So combined, you can see where “balderdash” would come to mean things combined in a noisy, careless fashion.

And of course, now it’s a very fun word game. 😉

I hope everyone has a great week!

Schedule. It’s something we use every day. A time table we keep. An action we perform daily for things like, oh, blog posts. 😉 As both a verb and a noun, it’s a word in such common use that I was shocked to discover it didn’t take on that oh-so-known meaning until railroading days! That’s right, the verb came into being in 1862, and the noun in 1863, both in conjunction with railroads scheduling their trains.

What was it before then, then? Well, originally it meant “a slip of paper with writing upon it.” In that sense it’s been around since the 14th century, taken from a Greek word. These slips of paper were often attached to a document as an appendix–think of those schedules you have to attach to your tax form (ugh, that time of year again!) and it clicks into place.

It’s a fairly easy jump then to these slips of paper with writing on them that the railroads would use, but I gotta say–I’m still surprised at how long it took and how completely the word has taken on this “new” meaning, and whenever I run into a place in a historical novel where I want to use “schedule,” I’m at a complete loss. One time in particular I remember floundering a good while before I decided the character should just keep a calendar rather than a schedule, LOL, and that she would just have to pencil an event onto it rather than schedule it. 😉

I hope everyone had a lovely, green St. Patrick’s Day and is set for a great week! Here in Maryland we’re really enjoying the early arrival of spring. =)

“Thank” seems like a pretty basic word, right? It’s obviously been around for a while. Say, as long as manners. 😉 Still, there’s been some interesting evolution of the word!

Interestingly, “thank” and “think” share a root–“thought, gratitude” is the meaning of the word from which it’s taken, which in turn is from a word that means “think, feel.” Apparently this variation came about from “thoughts” moving into “good thoughts,” which leads to gratitude.

Isn’t that just awesome?

Of course, it had developed an ironic sense–“You can thank her for that catastrophe”–by the 1550s, and by 1703 we were thanking people for nothing.

The phrase “thank you” (short for “I thank you”) is from the 1400s, and had turned into a noun (send him a thank you) by 1792.

I hope everyone has a great week!

What a striking figure. No, not that lady over there, the one I figured out for the math problem. Go figure, right? I know, I know–it’s just a figure of speech. 😉

Figure obviously has a lot of meanings, both as a noun and as a verb. It entered the English language waaaaay back in the 13th century with its two basic meanings: (1) the form of a person or (2) numeral. It adopted rhetorical uses only a century later, yet it took until 1824 for figure of speech to come about. 

As a verb, its primary meaning of “to represent” (Beatrice figures in The Divine Comedy as an inspirational guide through Paradise . . .) is from the 14th century; three hundred years later it evolved into “to picture” or “to make an appearance.” Interestingly, combining it with the “numeral” definition from the noun side of things didn’t happen until the middle of the 19th century–so not until then did you “figure out” a math problem.

Hope everyone has a great Monday!

There’s little I like more than realizing a word in common use today has come to mean the opposite of what it once did. 

Snob is definitely one of those words.

It appeared in English from some mysterious place, and scholars aren’t sure of its origins–just that it made its debut round about 1781 with the meaning of “shoemaker.” That’s right–shoemaker. LOL. The boys at Cambridge University soon adopted it and applied it to anyone of the working class.

Fifty-ish years later the word took a turn and was used to mean someone of a lower class who “vulgarly apes his superiors.” Slowly, throughout the nineteenth century, it evolved into one who puts on airs . . . who insists upon his gentility . . . and finally, by 1911, someone who insists upon it to the point of looking down their nose at those who are inferior.

Quite the trek that word has taken, eh? Love this one!

You get two for the price of one today. =)

I can’t tell you how many times in historical writing I have the urge to use the word “finagle.” You know, like She finagled him up the aisle. Or He finagled his way out of it. Something to convey some tricky footwork, so to speak.

But I generally can’t, because finagle didn’t come about until 1926. Really late! And at the time, it meant to cheat at cards. One authority says it’s related to figgle, which is to fidget. Hmmm. Either way, it’s modern meaning of some fancy (and likely questionable) maneuvering is waaaaaay too new to use in any of my historicals.

So then I have to think of what word I can use, and I inevitably fall back on maneuver. Maneuver has been around since the 15th century with a meaning of “hand labor.” (Man meaning hand, that’s no surprise.) But in the mid-1700s, it was applied to military movements. And from there, it was a quick jump to “artful plan, adroit movement.” More what I’m usually looking for.

But wait! Interestingly, the noun came first. The verb was actually a back-formation and didn’t make its literary debut until 1777. Thus far safe for all my historicals, but if I ever write earlier than that, I’m going to have to keep that in mind!

So there you have it. Some interesting factoids to help you maneuver through your week. 😉