12 Days of Wordlady: Nine Ladies Dancing

Nine ladies dancing

I have already discussed the interesting story of "dance", but what about "lady", a word obviously close to my heart?

It is derived from an Old English word, hlæfdie, a compound of hlæf (bread) and dige (kneader). From its earliest appearance in written records, this "bread kneader" was the woman in charge of a household.

The second element of the compound, dige, is related to the word that gave us "dairy", as we saw in our last post. The first element, hlæf, evolved into "loaf", its place as the collective word for the staff of life usurped by "bread", which started out meaning "a piece of food". "Give us today our daily loaf" and "I am the loaf of life," said Anglo-Saxon Gospel translations.

When I first started my word history segments on CBC Radio, there was much agonizing among the producers as to whether it was ok for the host to call me "the Word Lady" or if in fact this was sexist. Should it be "Word Woman" instead, they wondered (well, some of them suggested that "Word Wench" had a nice ring to it). To me, "Word Woman" had connotations of superhero(ine?) about it. After looking into it, I decided that any hesitation I had about "Word Lady" was due to its association in my mind with compounds like "tea lady"and "cleaning lady", and that I should just get over myself. So, Word Lady I am. If "lady" is good enough for the Virgin Mary, it should be good enough for me, I figure.

P.S. If you find the English language fascinating, you might enjoy regular updates about English usage and word origins from Wordlady. Receive every new post delivered right to your inbox! You can either:

use the subscribe window at the top of this page

(if you are reading this on a mobile device): send me an email with the subject line SUBSCRIBE to wordlady.barber@gmail.com

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Follow me on twitter: @thewordlady

For what swans have to do with singing, click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-swans-swimming.html

Why we don't say "gooses" and "gooselings: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-geese-laying.html


For why we don't say "fiveth", "fiveteen", and "fivety", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-fifth-day.html  

For why it was OK to call the Virgin Mary a "bird", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-calling-birds.html

For what French hens have to do with syphilis, click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-french-hens.html

For turtle-doves, click here: http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-turtle-doves.html

For what partridges have to do with farting, click here:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2013/12/12-days-of-wordlady-partridge.html

12 Days of Wordlady: 8 Maids a-milking

Maids a-milking

There just isn't much interesting to say about "maid" or "milk".

What I do find interesting, however, is the question: Why do we call the place where milkmaids work a "dairy" rather than, say, a "milkery"?

"Dairy" is derived from the Anglo-Saxon word 
dǽge (later "daie"). The very earliest meaning of dǽge was "kneader of dough; maker of bread". You can see the kinship between dǽge and "dough". Still back before the Norman Conquest, it came to designate a maid or female servant, and specifically a milkmaid. The "daie-ery" was therefore the place where a "daie" performed her duties.

P.S. If you find the English language fascinating, you might enjoy regular updates about English usage and word origins from Wordlady. Receive every new post delivered right to your inbox! You can either:

use the subscribe window at the top of this page

(if you are reading this on a mobile device): send me an email at wordlady.barber@gmail.com

Privacy policy: we will not sell, rent, or give your name or address to anyone. You can unsubscribe at any point.

Follow me on twitter: @thewordlady

For what swans have to do with singing, click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-swans-swimming.html

Why we don't say "gooses" and "gooselings: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-geese-laying.html


For why we don't say "fiveth", "fiveteen", and "fivety", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-fifth-day.html  

For why it was OK to call the Virgin Mary a "bird", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-calling-birds.html

For what French hens have to do with syphilis, click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-french-hens.html

For turtle-doves, click here: http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-turtle-doves.html

For what partridges have to do with farting, click here:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2013/12/12-days-of-wordlady-partridge.html

                                                               

 

 

 

12 Days of Wordlady: Swans a-swimming

Seven Swans a-swimming

The word "swan" seems to be related to the Old English words geswin (melody, song) and swinsian (to make melody), apparently in reference to the sound made by the whooping swan:

http://youtu.be/Z9qOauFdenE 


Now, if I sounded like that, I'd be booted out of the choir in short order, but in the Middle Ages, a belief arose that swans sang a beautiful song just before their death.  This belief has inspired many artists, not least one of my favourite composers, Orlando Gibbons, doubly appropriate for today as he was baptized on Christmas Day in 1583:

 

Here is some word trivia for you: a male swan is called a cob; the word is of uncertain origin. A female swan is a pen, possibly derived from the Latin penna (feather) and its medieval French derivative penne (a long wing feather), but its origin is also uncertain. Both terms are first seen in the 1500s.

Baby swans, as we all know, are called cygnets, and here are some delightful ones from Swan Lake (with Tchaikovsky providing a suitable honking sound from the bassoons and oboes at the beginning):


But why aren't they called "swanlings"? It seems that Anglo-Saxon didn't have a specific name for young swans. If the need arose, they were called "swan brids" (as we saw in the "calling birds" post, "brid" meant "young fowl" before it morphed into "bird"). 

This gap in the language was handily filled by the arrival of the French, who brought with them cigne (derived from Latin cygnus) and their diminutive ending -et. Cygnets were particularly valued as food (an odd idea to us now), and since French was the language of cooking, it's not surprising that English adopted a French name for them. Ironically, modern French does not have a specific word for "cygnet"; it has only jeune cygne.

You may be surprised to learn that the verb "swan" (move about freely or in an (apparently) aimless way;  travel idly or for pleasure) is quite recent, dating only from the Second World War, where it started out as military slang and applied specifically to armoured vehicles. The last thing I would think of when looking at a tank is a swan!

Having done the rounds of various artistic embodiments of swans, I cannot leave you without sharing this exquisite interpretation by Canadian prima ballerina Evelyn Hart of one of the most famous artistic "swan songs" (choreography by Michel Fokine). My Christmas gift to you. Heck, it's Christmas Day; you have the time to watch this. Tanks will be the furthest thing from your mind.

http://youtu.be/82AJh1MNvxw

If you love ballet, please check out my season of outstanding ballet trips by clicking here.You can meet Evelyn Hart in person as she shares memories of and insights into The Sleeping Beauty over afternoon tea in Toronto, January 28, 2018. Details here: 
http://toursenlair.blogspot.ca/2017/11/tea-and-tutus-with-evelyn-hart-sleeping.html 

For why we don't say "fiveth", "fiveteen", and "fivety", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-fifth-day.html  

For why it was OK to call the Virgin Mary a "bird", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-calling-birds.html

For what French hens have to do with syphilis, click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-french-hens.html

For turtle-doves, click here: http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-turtle-doves.html

For what partridges have to do with farting, click here:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2013/12/12-days-of-wordlady-partridge.html

P.S. If you find the English language fascinating, you might enjoy regular updates about English usage and word origins from Wordlady. Receive every new post delivered right to your inbox! You can either:

use the subscribe window at the top of this page

(if you are reading this on a mobile device): send me an email at wordlady.barber@gmail.com

Privacy policy: we will not sell, rent, or give your name or address to anyone. You can unsubscribe at any point.

Follow me on twitter: @thewordlady

12 Days of Wordlady: Geese a-laying

Six geese, possibly a-laying

It will come as a shock to some of you to know that "lay" has been used intransitively to mean "lie" since about 1300.  and for almost the first half-millennium of its use, no one objected to it. 

Like so many of our usage shibboleths, the attempt to create a  firewall between intransitive "lie, lay, lain" and transitive "lay, laid, laid" (which are ultimately of the same origin) was an artificial creation of the 18th century prescriptivists. Clearly, as with many of their prescriptions, this one is not working so well: intransitive "lay" is used very commonly, especially in speech and especially in North America. I hear more and more confusion of the past tenses of "lie" and "lay" as well, with people saying things like "I had lain it on the bed." 

Personally, although I observe the distinction because I was taught to do so, I don't think the world will come to an end if people say "She was laying on the bed", because, seriously, we know that humans don't lay eggs, and birds are not usually found on beds. This distinction is an unsustainable one. After all, we use "stand" both transitively and intransitively without endangering English-speaking civilization as we know it.

For those of you haven't harumphed off at the above display of heresy, let's look at the word "goose", which, surprisingly, manages to illustrate several important phenomena in the history of English.

In Old English, the word was gós, and back in the mists of time its plural would have been gósiz. By the phenomenon called "i-mutation", the vowel in the second syllable affected the vowel in the first syllable, so by Anglo-Saxon times, the plural had ceased to be gósiz and had become gés - our modern "geese". I-mutation is perhaps the most common cause of our irregular plurals.

Over time, the "o" in gós became lengthened, so that it was pronounced to rhyme with "dose". In the Middle Ages, they came up with the brilliant idea of representing lengthened vowel sounds by doubling the vowel letter, so we got the spelling "goose". All would have been well, but then the Great Vowel Shift came along, and every long "o" vowel sound shifted to become a long "u" sound. But we kept on spelling the word as if it was still pronounced to rhyme with dose. It's really quite crazy that we use a double letter "o" to represent a sound that has nothing to do with the sound "o".

A baby gós  was a "gosling". But while the "o" sound became longer in "gos", it got shorter in "gosling" (as was always the case when a vowel was followed by two consonants). As a result, it was not subject to the Great Vowel Shift, and we ended up with this oddity where the parent bird has one vowel and the baby a quite different one. (For another example of this, see The Fifth Day).

We're still not done with the role of "goose" in the English language. As you will recall, many English words acquired extraneous silent letters in the Renaissance to reflect their etymology. "Goose" narrowly missed this fate, as William Caxton tried to rewrite it as "ghoose" (as he succeeded in changing "gost" to "ghost").

OK, that's quite enough for "goose". The question why a male goose is called a gander will have to wait for another day.

For a different "lay", see this post. 
For why the plural of "moose" is not "meese", see this post.

For why we don't say "fiveth", "fiveteen", and "fivety", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-fifth-day.html  

For why it was OK to call the Virgin Mary a "bird", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-calling-birds.html

For what French hens have to do with syphilis, click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-french-hens.html

For turtle-doves, click here: http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-turtle-doves.html

For what partridges have to do with farting, click here:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2013/12/12-days-of-wordlady-partridge.html

P.S. If you find the English language fascinating, you might enjoy regular updates about English usage and word origins from Wordlady. Receive every new post delivered right to your inbox! You can either:

use the subscribe window at the top of this page

(if you are reading this on a mobile device): send me an email at wordlady.barber@gmail.com

Privacy policy: we will not sell, rent, or give your name or address to anyone. You can unsubscribe at any point.

Follow me on twitter: @thewordlady

 

12 Days of Wordlady: The Fifth Day

Five golden rings

Well, I have to tell you, "golden" and "ring" are pretty boring words, having meant the same things since, well, forever.

But "fifth", now THERE'S an interesting story.

The fift day of Christmas

If I said, "On the fift day of Christmas", you'd probably think, "Don't you know how to speak proper, Katherine? You sound like a gangster!" Even worse, can you imagine if I referred to that famous history play of Shakespeare's as "Henry the Fift"?

And yet....  

The first edition of Shakespeare's Henry V

 


















So, what gives?

"Fift" was indeed the original ordinal form of the number "five". The -th ending started to appear only in the 13th century, by analogy with "fourth" (which had always had a -th ending). But "fift" survived well into the 17th century, and in some dialects much longer.

The fith day of Christmas

A more recent development in the pronunciation of this word is the dropping of the second "f", so that it sounds like "fith". This naturally causes much gnashing of teeth in some quarters. But it is here to stay, the result of the phonetic difficulty of saying "f" followed by "th".

The fiveth day of Christmas
 
Another obvious question is: if the number is "five", why aren't its derivatives "fiveth", "fiveteen" and "fivety"?

First, let's look at the difference in the vowels. This is the result of the dastardly Great Vowel Shift, which messed with many English words between about 1400 and 1700. 

Back in Old English, all these words were much more closely related: fif, fift, fiftene, fiftig.  In all cases the first syllable would have originally sounded like "feef".  In the derivatives fift, fiftene, and fiftig, however, because the vowel was followed by two consonants, fif gradually shortened to sound like "fif".  Short vowels were not affected by the Great Vowel Shift, so these are still pronounced today as they were in the Middle Ages. Long stressed vowels, such as the long "ee" sound that still survived in "fif", however, moved to a different place in our English mouths, in this case to the diphthong we call a "long i".

The fifeth day of Christmas

And why is it "five" rather than "fife"? In Old English, fif  had various endings depending on the role it was playing in a sentence: fífe, fífa, fífum. Because there is a very old tendency in English to voice (i.e. to make the vocal cords vibrate when saying) consonants between two vowels, the second "f" became a "v", and voila, fif became "five".

Now you are no doubt wondering about "fife", the small flute. This came into the English language much later, in the 1500s, possibly from German pfeife, which already had what we would call a "long i", and which turned up too late for its final "f" to become voiced into a "v". 

For why it was OK to call the Virgin Mary a "bird", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-calling-birds.html

For what French hens have to do with syphilis, click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-french-hens.html

For turtle-doves, click here: http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-turtle-doves.html

For what partridges have to do with farting, click here:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2013/12/12-days-of-wordlady-partridge.html

P.S. If you find the English language fascinating, you might enjoy regular updates about English usage and word origins from Wordlady. Receive every new post delivered right to your inbox! You can either:

use the subscribe window at the top of this page

(if you are reading this on a mobile device): send me an email at wordlady.barber@gmail.com


Want to learn more fun facts about the language like this? I'm offering my Rollicking Story of the English Language course again in the New Year! You can sign up for the whole 8-week course or just drop in for the lecture(s) of your choice (so long as you book in advance). More info here:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2017/12/rollicking-story-of-english-course.html

Privacy policy: we will not sell, rent, or give your name or address to anyone. You can unsubscribe at any point.

Follow me on twitter: @thewordlady

 

12 Days of Wordlady: Calling birds

 

"Bird" in Old English meant only the young of feathered creatures, like "kitten" for cats. The generic word for feathered things was "fowl". By about Chaucer's time "bird" was being used to mean not only young fowl, but also small adult fowl, until finally it supplanted "fowl" almost entirely. For a while before this happened, "bird" was also used for the young of other animals and even of humans. In fact, it was a quite respectful synonym for a young girl. So we have a 1300s quotation referring to the Virgin Mary as a "bird". Quite incongruous to our ears! 

As well as changing in meaning, "bird" changed in form. Originally the word was "brid". But, just as "thrid" became "third" by metathesis (for more on this, see this post: http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2012/04/friday-threeteenth.html), "brid" was metathesized into "bird" in the north of England and gradually worked its way down to the south, taking over by about 1400.

In the Christmas carol, the "calling" birds were originally "colly" birds, meaning they were black. This word derived from "coal", originally designating something black with coal dust or soot. 


For why we write "twelfth" rather than "twelvth":
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2015/01/12-days-of-wordlady-twelfth-day.html

For pipers, click here:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2015/01/12-days-of-wordlady-pipers.html 

For lords a-leaping:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2015/01/12-days-of-wordlady-lords-leaping.html  

For why I'm not the Word Wench:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-nine-ladies-dancing.html

For why milkmaids work in a dairy rather than a milkery:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-8-maids-milking.html

For what swans have to do with singing, click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-swans-swimming.html


Why we don't say "gooses" and "gooselings: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-geese-laying.html


For why we don't say "fiveth", "fiveteen", and "fivety", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-fifth-day.html  


For turtle-doves, click here: http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-turtle-doves.html

For what partridges have to do with farting, click here:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2013/12/12-days-of-wordlady-partridge.html

P.S. If you find the English language fascinating, you might enjoy regular updates about English usage and word origins from Wordlady. Receive every new post delivered right to your inbox! You can either:

use the subscribe window at the top of this page

(if you are reading this on a mobile device): send me an email at wordlady.barber@gmail.com

Privacy policy: we will not sell, rent, or give your name or address to anyone. You can unsubscribe at any point.

Follow me on twitter: @thewordlady

 
 

North America vs UK: Stuffers or Fillers?

 



Today we are going to take a break from the 12 Days of Wordlady for our regular Friday posting, but fear not, the Four Calling Birds will be arriving in a couple of days.

Today's topic is an interesting difference between British and North American English: on this side of the pond we stuff our Christmas stockings, and over there, they fill them.

Both expressions seem to date from the early 1940s (much earlier than the OED's current earliest quotations) and both seem to originate in the US.The custom of having Christmas stockings goes back at least a century earlier.

Harper's Bazaar - Page 23

https://books.google.ca/books?id=ONYhAQAAMAAJ

1939 - ‎Snippet view - ‎More editions

B16- • Five precision instruments on a pilot wheel • An amusing stocking-filler for a bachelor and to enhance his desk: clock, calendar, barometer, an infallible gift for an epicure is a can of Cafe hygrometer, thermometer. $75. B55. Rico for ...

Consumer Reports - Page 29

https://books.google.ca/books?id=g8vgAAAAMAAJ

1940 - ‎Snippet view - ‎More editions

For the little gifts — the stocking filler, or just remembrance gifts — the giver with a lean purse should seek out the five-and-ten: Here the little girl playing "mama" can be fitted out with all sorts of domestic trappings. Here the little boy playing ...

Hardware Age - Volume 146, Issues 7-13 - Page 42

https://books.google.ca/books?id=wo8TAQAAMAAJ

1940 - ‎Snippet view - ‎More editions

We have everything from the smallest stocking stuffer to big toys that you will want to buy now and have us store for you until just before Christmas. But no matter what you have in mind for your youngsters, get here today while our stock is ...

The idea didn't seem to catch on in the UK till the late fifties. Goodness knows why the alliterative "stocking stuffer" lost out there to the (in my opinion) lamer "stocking filler". If you have any theories based on our different personalities (or perhaps our different stockings), please share them.

And don't forget, whatever you call them, either of my books makes a great one! You can order Six Words You Never Knew Had Something to do with Pigs and Only in Canada You Say from me and
Only in Canada You Say from amazon: 
http://www.amazon.ca/Only-Canada-You-Say-Treasury/dp/0195429842/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1418403912&sr=1-2 

P.S. If you find the English language fascinating, you might enjoy regular updates about English usage and word origins from Wordlady. Receive every new post delivered right to your inbox! You can either:

use the subscribe window at the top of this page

(if you are reading this on a mobile device): send me an email at wordlady.barber@gmail.com

Privacy policy: we will not sell, rent, or give your name or address to anyone. You can unsubscribe at any point.

Follow me on twitter: @thewordlady

12 Days of Wordlady: French hens

Three French hens

So...if the country is called France, why isn't the adjective (and the name of the language) ... Franch?

The word was originally "Frankish", derived from the Franks who invaded Gaul after the fall of Rome and gave France its name (more about them in this post: http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2013/01/frankly-im-incensed.html).
But a phonetic phenomenon happened in Old English words where the second syllable had an "i" sound in it, called "i-mutation" (more about this when we get to the geese a-laying). To put it simply, the "i" affected the sound of the vowel in the preceding syllable, so that Frankish morphed into "frenkish" and then got squished down to "Frenksh", ultimately written as "French".

Well, enough with the ancient phonetics, you really want to know about the connections between "French" and ... sexually transmitted diseases. 

When Europe experienced its first recorded outbreak of syphilis after the French siege of Naples in 1495, the Italians blamed the French, and called it "the French disease". The French had other ideas, and not surprisingly called it "the Naples disease". But "French" became the  popular designation throughout Europe thanks to a poem published in 1530: Syphilis, sive Morbvs Gallicvs ‘Syphilis, or the French disease’).  The author was (it goes without saying) Italian. Syphilus was the name of a shepherd in the poem, supposedly the first sufferer from the disease. Oh for the good old days of literature, when people wrote poems about ... venereal diseases.

The English were not slow to hop on the anti-French bandwagon, and called this new "pox" by various francophobic names: French compliment, French disease, French evil, French goods, French marbles, French measles, French pox. But, being equal-opportunity xenophobes, they also called it variously "Neapolitan", "Spanish", "Persian", and even occasionally "Scottish". One misguided person proposed the "English pox", but that surprisingly did not catch on.

Having wandered quite some distance from the origin of this post, I should say that I do not think there is any nasty innuendo in the true love's third gift!

And to take your mind away from syphilis, here are some adorable hens (and yes, they are French) from the delightful ballet La Fille mal Gardée by Frederick Ashton:

http://youtu.be/oAAodYX3xI8

If you love ballet, please check out my season of outstanding ballet trips by clicking here.

For why we write "twelfth" rather than "twelvth":
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2015/01/12-days-of-wordlady-twelfth-day.html

For pipers, click here:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2015/01/12-days-of-wordlady-pipers.html 

For lords a-leaping:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2015/01/12-days-of-wordlady-lords-leaping.html  

For why I'm not the Word Wench:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-nine-ladies-dancing.html

For why milkmaids work in a dairy rather than a milkery:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-8-maids-milking.html

For what swans have to do with singing, click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-swans-swimming.html


Why we don't say "gooses" and "gooselings: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-geese-laying.html


For why we don't say "fiveth", "fiveteen", and "fivety", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-fifth-day.html  

For why it was OK to call the Virgin Mary a "bird", click here: 
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-calling-birds.html
 

For turtle-doves, click here: http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2014/12/12-days-of-wordlady-turtle-doves.html

For what partridges have to do with farting, click here:
http://katherinebarber.blogspot.ca/2013/12/12-days-of-wordlady-partridge.html

P.S. If you find the English language fascinating, you might enjoy regular updates about English usage and word origins from Wordlady. Receive every new post delivered right to your inbox! You can either:

use the subscribe window at the top of this page

(if you are reading this on a mobile device): send me an email at wordlady.barber@gmail.com

Privacy policy: we will not sell, rent, or give your name or address to anyone. You can unsubscribe at any point.

Follow me on twitter: @thewordlady