The arrival of my brother 2 ½ years after my birth gave me “big sister” status. My parents told me they named the baby “Warren.” When I heard that word, my mother said I vehemently commented “He not WORN, he NEW!” Mom and Dad helped me pronounce his name correctly and showed me the differing letters.
Several years later, at about eight years old, I discovered the word “warren” in the dictionary. Of course, I teased my little brother mercilessly about being a “rabbit hutch.”
The landscapes in the small rural community of my childhood were not yet scarred with innumerable billboards. For this reason when a billboard—actually an extra large, sturdy sign—was installed, it garnered more than passing attention. One of these signs advertised a local furniture store. It depicted a pelican balancing a cotton ball on its beak and the statement “A Little Down on a Big Bill.” I didn’t yet know the term “double entendre” but I did know I loved the dual meaning.
This passion for the taste of words and flavor of ideas has not abated throughout all the facets of my life; through marriages, births, raising children, work outside the home and all the mental and physical energies expended in those areas.
Love of words, their spelling and usage has been a lifelong passion of mine. This is not to imply that I know the etymologies of words or that I am always accurate in my usage. The simple fact is I am fascinated by words—their sounds, meanings, spelling, and quirks. The four dictionaries I have in various spots throughout my small home are testament to my interest. Of course, now that we have access to the various dictionary sites on the Internet, word-checking is a breeze.
A few years ago a person who definitely knows me well, gifted me with The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester. This is a book about the making of the Oxford English Dictionary. However, don’t for a moment discount the book as dry and boring reading.
The Mother Tongue by Bill Bryson is also on my bookshelf and it, too, was a gift from a dear friend and a seeker of knowledge; another person who not only knows my unflagging enthusiasm for words and their etymology but also knows I have a quirky sense of humor. This Bryson book is a fun read.
