Hochle

To tumble lewdly with women in open day.

- John Mactaggart's Scottish Gallovidian Encyclopedia, 1824

Need Sleep!

Good morning world! I'm so exhausted right now, I just want to curl up in a nice warm bed with a lovely cuppa tea and listen to some relaxing music and then drifting off to sleep.

It was a later night than usual last night and, no, it wasn't because of the Royal Wedding. I didn't stay up to watch that. To be perfectly honest, I'm not really bothered about the whole affair. It's not that I don't like the Royal Family, it's really that I don't bother thinking about them a whole lot. I'm apathetic.

In any case, the reason I'm so darn tired today is that I went to bed later than usual. Had friends over for tea and a chat, and it was pretty late by the time I crawled into bed. Then, the cats decided to yowl beginning at 5:30 or so this morning. It's their way of getting attention for no reason whatsoever. They had food, they had water, they just wanted to tick me off, I'm sure!

I tend not to write very efficiently when tired, so I doubt I'll make my daily 3 000. I probably won't need to in any case, as I think the rest of the book has been pretty much written. I'll need to fill in some places, and rewrite in others, but I think I'm pretty much done.

Unfortunately, I won't be finished this week. I'll be able to close Overlord and leave it alone for a few months early next week, I think.

Oivey, but this rewriting is a long business! Oh well, there's nothing for it. Must plod on.

I'd better get started, actually. Here's today's Forgotten English:

Calenture

A distemper peculiar to sailors in hot climates wherein they imagine the sea to be green fields, and the throw themselves into it if not restrained.

- Samuel Johnsons' Dictionary of the English Language, 1755

A species of furious delirium to which sailors are subject in the torrid zone; a kind of phrenitis, the attack of which comes on suddenly after a broiling day.

- Robley Dunglison's Dictionarly of Medical Science, 1844

From French calenture, heat; from Latin caleo, to be hot.

- John Ridpath's Home Reference Library, 1898.

Editing Pains

As most of you know, I'm almost done my rewrite of Overlord, Book 4 of The Great Man series. Yesterday, just as I finished my daily 3 000 words, bringing the current word count to just over 106 000, I came across a very large section that was now entirely redundant. I could salvage none of it.

So with a sigh, I highlighted all 6 000 odd words of it, and pressed ctl+x. That's 6 000 words gone. Effectively, two days of writing cancelled.

Of course my story is ten kajillion (is that even a number?) times better for it, but it's still a bit sad to watch the words vanish. To make myself feel better, I pasted them into a new document and dubbed it 'cut from Overlord.' So the words aren't really gone, they just won't appear in the finished version of the first draft of the rewrite, and thus any draft thereafter.

There was some nostalgia attached to those words. That section was all 100% original prose. The first ever words of the first ever version of The Great Man, stretching as far back as when I thought the series was only one book. That's a long, long time ago.

I was so distraught at effectively cancelling out two whole days worth of writing, I did some writing overtime yesterday and managed to write another 3 000. This, of course, means that though I wrote a whopping 6 000 words yesterday, my actual word count remains largely unaltered.

Now that's frustrating! Had I not been well over the absolute minimum of 100 000, I'd have cared a great deal more.

Last night, as my flatmate howled in despair over the result of the Montreal Canadians vs. Boston Bruins hockey match, I managed to daydream up a whole bunch of stuff for Overlord. I need to get it all down before it vanishes. Thus, I'll leave you now, but not before I give you today's Forgotten English.

Bouffage

A satisfying meal; adopted from Old French bouffage [defined in its original sense by Cotgrave below]. "His inwards and flesh remaining could make no bouffage, but a light bit for the grave." Letter of Sir Thomas Browne, 1672.

-Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1888

Any meat that, eaten greedily, fils the mouth, and makes the cheeks to swell; cheek-puffing meat.

- Randle Cotgrave's Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues, 1611.

Move Along, There's Nothing to See Here

The walk home yesterday was horrific! Not only did it rain on me, twice, but I was witness to a traffic collision (no one was seriously injured) and had a bus splash me head to toe with filthy road water.

Happily, I received a hat out of it all.

Let's hope that today's journey is much less eventful.

I wrote very well yesterday, getting my 3 000 words in before lunch. I think that I'm almost done. I think. I hope. Please, for the love of all that is good in this world, let me be almost finished this book!

Ahem.

I should get back to writing. Here is today's Forgotten English for you logophiles:

Cucking-Stool

A chair in which an offender was placed to be hooted at or pelted by the mob; or it might be used for ducking its occupant; from Icelandic kuka, to ease oneself, and kukr, dung.

- Charles Annandale's Dictionary of the English Language, 1897

An instrument of punishment formerly in use for scolds, disorderly women, fraudelent tradespeople, etc.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1893.

Tuesday, Obviously

Well, today is Tuesday. Today is also the first day of the week, due to the Easter break. In that time I do absolutely nothing, save walk into town to feed a friend's cat and gecko. I felt so guilty every time I left my friend's apartment. Poor Fei Fei (cat) would ignore her food and frantically rub herself against my leg looking for cuddles. I felt so badly for her every time I closed the door to her pitiful meow.

I'm suffering from guilt even now. Poor Fei Fei. If only she got along with our cats, we could have kept her at the house and she'd not be wanting for company.

Sigh.

My Easter weekend was very quiet, what with J.M-B. off to Boston to visit with family.

I had an idea for next year's April script writing challenge. I'm doing all the research and planning now. It's a silly thing, but fun. I've never written a script before, ever, so this should be a good challenge.

Of course, I'm putting that on hold until I've finished Overlord, which should hopefully be this week. Hopefully. We'll see.

Speaking of, I should be off to write the darn thing. Here is today's Forgotten English:

Kilted

The participle kilted is sometimes used metaphorically to denote language that borders upon indecency. [Derived from] kilt, the English or Saxon name for the most conspicious portion of the Highlander garb, called by the Highlanders themselves, the fillibeg, or little coat.

- Charles Mackay's Lost Beauties of the English Language, 1874