Word of The Day: Quiddity

It’s been a while since I posted about interesting and often archaic words that contribute to a fuller, richer vocabulary. Even though it’s been less than a year since that orange POS somehow took power, this country has turned into a shitshow of one horrible event after another and that seems to eclipse any sense of normalcy. 

Anyway…here’s one that’s quirky and will hopefully take our minds off this ugly reality for a minute or two.

Quiddity is such a great word: it’s the essence or unique nature that makes something the kind of thing it is and makes it different from any other.

Vague and not vague at the same time — I can sort of comprehend it only if I don’t allow my brain to delve too deeply into the intricacies of the meaning because then it becomes overwhelming and my mind takes off onto strange and faraway little tributaries. Sometimes it’s best not to overthink things.

From Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “Where be his quiddities now…?

To me: “Her passion for Leon Russell’s music is as much a quiddity as her curly hair.”

More examples:

“Many people share the quiddity of dipping their fries into their milkshakes.” which is a waste of a good milkshake and a good french fry.

For there is no knowledge of things insofar as they are external in effect, but insofar as their nature and quiddity is grasped by the mind.

When a politician avoids answering a question while pretending to answer it, he often does it using quiddity, or by bringing up irrelevant and distracting points.

Quiddity is a usefully sneaky tool if you want to evade an argument or question, and it’s often used by people like lawyers in court and teenagers angling for later curfews.

The noun quiddity has a philosophical meaning too, “the essential nature of something,” or the unique thing that makes it what it is. The Medieval Latin root, quidditas, translates literally as “whatness.”

I think we all need to incorporate quiddity into our daily language, written and verbal, don’t you?

Featured image from Pinterest

I Am Feral

Today’s mood…

In my mind I am always the feral woman wearing a white nightdress with a mud-stained hem and twigs in my hair, running through a forest bathed in moonlight, screeching along with the owls and foxes.

Unknown, curated from She’s Magic & Midnight Lace
Image from Pinterest

Full Corn Moon

Every full moon in September, this song comes to mind…

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?

–Colors of The Wind from the film, Pocahontas

September’s full moon is special because it’s accompanied by a total lunar eclipse. Sadly, I don’t think we’ll be able to experience the eclipse here in the States but we might observe the moon’s deep reddish hue; not blue, though.

We are reminded to connect with themes of gratitude, release, and harvest by writing down what we’re thankful for and what we want to let go of, and by creating a gratitude chart. As always, this is a great time to charge crystals under the light energy of this full moon.

Featured image by Enchanted Seashells


Star’s Twinkle

I don’t think I ever knew there were more verses. I’m not sure if this is the original or if someone added to it, but it’s lovely.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are,
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

When the blazing sun is set,
And the grass with dew is wet,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveler in the dark
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see where to go
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye
Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveler in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

The Star by Jane Taylor
Art from Pinterest

Walking Wisdom

This was chalked into the sidewalk near my lagoon. It’s been there for a while and so far no one has tampered with it, so I decided to memorialize the words in a photo. I don’t know who wrote it, but I would like to meet them, because it’s sad yet profoundly hopeful at the same time.

I am not afraid to keep on living,
I am not afraid to walk this earth (world) alone.

Photo by Enchanted Seashells

Evolution of The Mom Hug

I’m at #3 with Angel Boy, #2 with Angel Girl.

I remember that the original Angel Boy was about fourteen years old when he entered the final stage, taller than me. Now I have to get on my tiptoes to hug him and HE bends down to me.

In my mind, he’s still and forever #1 or #2, so it doesn’t seem right that the roles have reversed, and it won’t be long before the Angel Kids will also be taller than me, because mostly everyone else is.

I guess that’s why they call me Little Grandma.

**I found this on Pinterest, but credit goes to artist Giselle Dekel.**

“Why are you always in the kitchen?”

These incredibly observant Angel Kids of mine are full of nonstop chat as they watch my every move with their laser focused eyes and brains, especially when they sit at the counter (their favorite spot), waiting to be served exactly like baby birds in a nest with their beaks open wide for mom to bring a freshly caught worm..

“Why are you always in the kitchen, Grandma?” “It’s like you have a force field around you and you’re stuck in there.” (He is SO funny.)

“Yeah, Grandma, you’re always in the kitchen!” Angel Girl has to offer her opinion, too. ALWAYS.

I stop chopping veggies or flipping pancakes or cutting the crust off another slice of bread (only for Angel Girl), and respond with a question,

“Why are you guys always hungry?”

Well, that made them think a bit, that’s for sure.

“Good point”, Angel Boy 2.0 sagely nods as he ponders what I meant by that, as he chews on a slice of apple.

Those kids LOVE apples as a pre-meal snack. Sometimes dipped in nut butter, but they’re perfectly satisfied with a bowl of sliced apples.

The key is to give each of them their own bowl or they’ll squabble about equal amounts. “Why does s/he have more than me?” Since I only birthed one child, I’m not used to this kind of sibling behavior. I actually find it incredibly annoying and to avoid listening to it, for me, separate bowls are the easiest solution.

They eat a lot, not junk food or snacks, but wholesome and dense nutrition. That’s what healthy kids do; eat, play, sleep. They’re exactly like puppies. Their growing bodies and brains demand it and I’m only too happy to oblige.

“Play with us, Grandma. We’ll even play Candyland just for you. Or Scrabble.” That’s quite the concession on their part, as they know those are my two favorite games.

“How about after you guys have this smoothie and ants on a log and a (lentil/oat/kale) muffin, we’ll play. How does that sound?”

Two curly heads nod in unison.

Eat, play, sleep.

******************************************************

Featured photo by Enchanted Seashells at Crystal Cove. Vintage kitchen, not mine.

Beautiful Love

If I could hug my crow family, I would be so happy. The love of an animal is pure and sweet.

Jean Marie Lucien Pierre Anouilh was a French dramatist and screenwriter 1910-1987.
Curated from Rivers in the Ocean / Craft Kreatively

Random Kindnesses

Early this morning, I opened the back door and walked on the deck. Near the steps, I saw a motionless bee which I gently nudged with a stick and found him able to move ever so slightly. I brought him a small amount of water in a jar lid and watched as he thirstily inhaled a few drops. As soon as he had enough, he stumbled down the rest of the steps to a shady area on the ground.

I’m not sure if I helped him or simply prolonged the inevitable, but at least I did something to aid a living creature and that always feels good.

Later that morning, I went to the grocery store where I picked up some yummy cherries and cucumbers and avocados.

The woman in front of me had a lot of items and it looked like she was making a special dinner, maybe anniversary, or at least that was the little story I told myself as I patiently waited my turn.

I noticed that she didn’t have her own shopping bags and I watched the clerk take out a couple “store” bags and fill them with her food. After the food was paid for, the employee asked her for thirty cents to pay for the bags, which was really odd because usually they’ll ask before, so they can add it to the total. Right??? So my spidey senses were on alert as I observed the conversation.

The lady became flustered as she looked in her handbag because she didn’t have any cash or change. I could see that she was super embarrassed and I could totally relate. It didn’t seem as if she was unsheltered or didn’t have money; she was well dressed with great jewelry (I always notice stuff like that).

I said, “Let me check. I think I have thirty cents.” I usually don’t have ANY cash or coins either, but I did locate enough to pay for her store bags.

The poor woman was beside herself with gratitude, wanted to pay me back, couldn’t believe I would do that for a complete stranger, asked me my name, WAY overly intensely thankful and appreciative for a mere handful of coins.

I told her it was my pleasure to help and it wasn’t as if I offered to buy her food (haha) and she could pay it forward to someone else in the future and keep the good deed moving along.

Because her gratitude seemed oddly disproportionate, I thought it was possible that she had a bad day and my minor act of kindness gave her a bit of hope — who knows.

She did seem close to breaking down, poor dear. And all for THIRTY CENTS! I wonder if this was some sort of low rent scam so the employee could pocket the money, but that was most likely not the case. Anyway, it was a strange encounter and I was glad to help because it did seem that was the only way I was going to get out of the store, haha. (BTW, I had my own bags.)

Sometimes I’ll see someone do a kind but simply mundane gesture and I’ll just get filled with this unexplainable joy that someone did something nice for someone else with no strings attached; no ulterior motives, no agenda.

After that experience, I went to Sprouts because I was out of probiotics (I love probiotics). The woman in front of me in line (same scenario!) turned to me. She held out a couple pieces of candy wrapped in shiny gold foil and asked me if I wanted them. She said they were free and pointed to where she got them, somewhere else in the store.

I told her how much I LOVE free things (I really do) but asked why she didn’t want them. She explained that she had tasted another one and they were milk chocolate and she only likes dark chocolate. I said I like all variety of chocolate (except white) and gladly accepted her little gifts.

Two acts of kindness were immediately repaid by another; what a great (and sweet) day!

Featured image credit to oechsli.com

No Return

As a true Taurean, I hold on tightly. I believe, I have faith, I hope, I wish — but sometimes I have to let go, as much as it causes immense pain.

If ever anything was past the point of no return, it’s these black bananas. I held on for so long, I saved them because I figured they’d be perfect for banana bread or muffins, but then I became emotionally attached and couldn’t let go, even when they lost all signs of life.

And I still couldn’t dispose of them.

I cleaned out the refrigerator (Lion’s Gate Portal activity) and put them to one side in a sort of transitional area JUST IN CASE, because you never know when the heart will start to beat once again.

This is the way my brain works. Here’s what I wonder: If I peel them, what will I discover? Have they become toxic and inedible? Can they be resurrected or is it too late? What if I toss them out and they were still good?

What do you think?