Vest-Pocket Vocabulary
Querimo’nious, a. complaining.
Vest-Pocket Vocabulary
Lusk’ish, a. inclined to laziness.
Vest-Pocket Vocabulary
Vest-Pocket Vocabulary
Word in the Wild: Max was in the wine cellar when the lights went out. He lurched and grubbled about, breaking a bottle of Richebourg Leroy while he tried to find the stairs. It was as he paused to mourn the loss that he heard the quiet breathing behind him.
You can find a complete listing of the Word Blog’s Vest-Pocket Vocabulary entries and learn more about where they come from here.
Questions and Answers
I have a question that has been puzzling me for some time. What is the opposite of the word “fade”; as in “light fades at dusk”? What does light do in the morning?
I suppose that’s why Kipling wrote instead that “dawn comes up like thunder” and Coleridge imagined dawn’s “golden exhalations.” Wordsworth’s dawn was “cheerful” and Homer’s, “rosy-fingered.”
On an unrelated note, I think fade is a pretty interesting word since when light is fading, things becomes darker, but when colour fades from something, it becomes lighter.
Fade can also mean to wither, if you’re a flower; to become quieter, if you’re sound; to grow smaller and weaken, if you’re mortal; and to vanish, if you’re the invisible man.
If you fade in a game of cards, you’re accepting a bet. And if your brake shoes fade, you’re in trouble.
Now, if you happen to be from Cornwall and little old-fashioned, then fade can also mean “to dance from town to country.” And if you want to be especially old-fashioned you should know that another, obsolete meaning of fade is “to suit or arrange,” though this fell out of favour in the late 15th century.
Thanks for the question, Cheryl.
Vest-Pocket Vocabulary
Flammiv’omous, a. belching out flames.Word in the Wild: The flammivomous dragons embroidered on the fraying tapestry were nothing like the ones Huang Long had read about in her story books as a child—these creatures were positively terrifying.
The contributor of the photo of the dragon is Jim Winstead Jr. The photograph is copyrighted but also licenced for further reuse.
You can find a complete listing of the Word Blog’s Vest-Pocket Vocabulary entries and learn more about where they come from here.
Vest-Pocket Vocabulary
Word in the Wild: When people head into the forest for the first time, they’re often afraid of garter snakes even though they’re harmless and timid, yet few are afraid of the mushrooms they see despite the fact that many of them are exitial.
You can find a complete listing of the Word Blog’s Vest-Pocket Vocabulary entries and learn more about where they come from here.
Vest-Pocket Vocabulary
Domicil’iate, v. to fix a place of residence.
Word in the Wild: Well, I got the job, packed up all my stuff, arranged for the moving van, and now I’ve just got to domicliliate myself in my new neighbourhood.
Here fix means something like install in. So if you’re domiciliating someone you’re getting them settled into their new place, not calling up Bob Vila.
You can find a complete listing of the Word Blog’s Vest-Pocket Vocabulary entries and learn more about where they come from here.
Vest-Pocket Vocabulary
Yex, v. to have the hiccough.
Word in the Wild: I just can’t seem to console little Lily. I’ve fed her and changed her, but she just keeps wailing and yexing. Poor girl.
You probably won’t be surprised to learn that yex is onomatopoeic: yex…yex…yexyex! But be careful when you’re bandying this obsolete word around—according to the OED it has also meant to sob, to belch and to expectorate.
And, admit it, now that you’ve seen some of these fantastic high-scoring Vest-Pocket words, I know you want to start pulling out the Vest-Pocket Dictionary for your Scrabble games.
You can find a complete listing of the Word Blog’s Vest-Pocket Vocabulary entries and learn more about where they come from here.
