In a jiffy

In a jiffy

A jiffy is very short, unspecified length of time. For example, “I’ll be back in a jiffy”.

It can refer to more precise units of time, and was first defined by Gilbert Newton Lewis (1875–1946) as the time it takes light to travel one centimeter in a vacuum (about 33.3564 picoseconds). Other definitions are available.

Jiffy [ˈd͡ʒɪ.fi] was first recorded in English in 1785 and its origin is uncertain. One possibity is that it was Thieves’ Cant for lightning. It used to be written giffy, and may be related to gliff (a transient glance; an unexpected view of something that startles one; a sudden fear) [source].

Jiffy is also a brand of padded envelope and other packaging, so you could, if you were so inclined, send someone something in a jiffy (bag/envelope) in a jiffy.

Other expressions that indicate that something will happen very soon include:

– at once
– now
– right now
– straight away
– immediately
– in an instant
– instantly
– in a minute
– in a moment
– in a second
– in a trice
– in a mo
– in a sec
– in a tic
– in a heartbeat
– as quick as a flash
– in a second / in a sec
– in two shakes of a lamb’s tail
– in the blink of an eye
– before you know it

Welsh equivalents include:

– ar unwaith (at once)
– yn syth (immediately)
– ar y gair (on the word)
– yn y fan (in the place)
– yn ddi-oed (without delay)
– mewn chwinciad (in a wink)

The length of time indicated by these expressions can vary considerably. When some people say they will do something staight away, they really mean it. Others might mean that they will do it at some time in the future, maybe, if they can be bothered, but don’t hold your breath.

When I’m asked to do something I don’t really want to do, I might say that I’ll do it when I have a spare moment (or two), or if I can find the time. This might mean that I will actually do it, or that I won’t.

Do you know/use other expressions, in English or other languages, for short lengths of time?

When asked to do something you would rather not do, how would you politely decline?

This post was inspired by a reference to Jiffy Pop, a brand of popcorn, in a novel I’m reading at the moment, The Art of Disappearing, by Ivy Pochoda. I had to look it up.

When your gran is your granddad

In a book I’m reading at the moment – Border Country by Raymond Williams – one of the characters calls his grandfather ‘Gran‘, which strikes me as unusally. To me gran could only refer to a grandmother. Does it seem strange to you?

I only remember one of my grandparents – my dad’s mum – who I think we called granny. We used the same term for my mum’s stepmother, who was with us until 2013.

Some people I know have different names for their grandmothers. For example, their mum’s mum might be nan, and their dad’s mum might be gran or granny. I haven’t noticed people having different names for their grandfathers in English.

In Welsh though, people sometimes add the name of the place where they live to the words for grandfather and grandmother. For example, Taid Dinbych (Denbigh Granddad) and Nain Caergybi (Holyhead Granny), or in South Wales Tad-cu Casnewydd (Newport Granddad) and Mam-gu Caerdydd (Cardiff Granny).

What do you call, or did you call, your grandparents?

Les mots de la semaine

français English Cymraeg
la station métérorologique = weather station gorsaf dywydd
la station balnéaire seaside resort tref lan môr
la station de ski ski resort cyrchfan sgi
la station thermale spa tref ffynhonnau, sba, ffynhonfa
la station de lavage car wash golchfa geir, lle golchi ceir
l’accord (m) deal (agreement) bargen, cynnig
hors de portée beyond/out of reach allan o gyrraedd, y tu hwnt i’ch cyrraedd
à portée (de qn) within reach (of sb) o fewn cyrraedd (i rywun)
se remettre (de); se rétablir (de) to recover (from illness) gwella
vertical vertical unionsyth, fertigol
le kitesurfing kitesurfing barcudfyrddio
l’élan (m) elk (European) elc, cawrgarw
l’orignal (m) moose (Canadian) elc
crise des cinquante midlife crisis argyfwng canol oed
l’examen (medical) check up archwiliad
la caisse crate (for bottles, china) cawell, bocs rhwyllog, crât, crêt
le cageot crate (for fruit, veg) cawell, bocs rhwyllog, crât, crêt
la vis screw sgriw, hoelen

Les mots de la semaine

français English Cymraeg
sauter, sautiller, houblonner to hop hopian
la musaraigne shrew chwistlen, chwistl, llygoden goch
le rendez-vous appointment trefniad
le plâtre plaster cast cast plastr
l’accessoire feature (of product, computer, etc) nodwedd
la saillie (mountain) ledge sil, silff, ysgafell
la balançoire (playground) swing siglen
le toboggan (playground) slide sleid, sglefren, sglefr, llithren
le toboggan, la luge toboggan, sledge sled, tobogan
le toboggan de piscine water slide sleid ddŵr
euthanasier, (faire) piquer, faire abattre to put down (an animal) rhoi i gysgu, difa, lladd
le fusilier marin marine (soldier) môr-filwr
le marines the Marines y môr-filwyr
la rédaction (school/college) essay traethawd
mettre au lit, coucher to put to bed rhoi/dodi yn ei wely
tordre, tortiller to twist cyfrodeddu, cordeddu, crychu, plethu
se tordre le cheville / le poignet to twist one’s ankle/wrist troi’ch ffêr/arddwrn
la sueur sweat chwys
suer to sweat chwysu
le chewing-gun chewing gum gwm cnoi

Back to Bangor

I finally returned to Bangor today after nearly 3 weeks away – I was only planning to be away for 3 days, but due to the slight mishap in London (a broken ankle), my plans changed a bit.

My mum has looked after me very well, and been doing the cooking, laundry, shopping, etc. I’ll have to find ways to do those things myself back in Bangor.

Last Friday I went to the hospital in Lancaster for a check up on my broken ankle. They put a new plaster cast on it and said that it’s healing well. I can even put a bit of weight on it.The plaster is due to come off at the end of May, and I’ve arranged for this to be done in Ysbyty Gwynedd (Bangor hospital).

I was planning to go to the Polyglot Gathering in Bratislava at the end of May, but have reluctantly decided to cancel that trip. I doubt I’ll be ready for such an adventure as soon as the cast comes off, as it’s likely to take a month or so before I’m fully mobile again.

My rather overgrown garden

It’s a beautiful day here in Bangor, my apple tree is in bloom, and my garden went a bit wild while I was away (see photo). I’ll need help to tame it, I think.

It was great to hear some Welsh on the train on the way back – I’ve missed it.

Les mots de la semaine

français English Cymraeg
le boulon (nut and) bolt bollt
le boulon à oreilles wing bolt bollt adeiniogf/asgellog
le verrou bolt (on door) bollt(en)
verrouiller to bolt (a door) bolltio (drws)
boulonner to bolt (on) bolltio
engloutir to bolt (food) llowcio/claddu/bolgian bwyd
boulotter to tuck (into smth); to eat claddu bwyd
accordeur de piano piano tuner tiwniwr pianos
dyn tiwnio pianos
accorder to tune (an instrument) tiwnio
battre un record to break a record torri/curo record
collant sticky gludiog/td>

Protagonists and sidekicks

When listening to The Allusionist podcast today I learnt an interesting word – tritagonist, who was the actor who played the third role in ancient Greek drama.

Tritagonist comes from the Ancient Greek word τρίτἀγωνιστής (triagōnistḗs), from τρίτ ‎(third) and ἀγωνιστής ‎(combatant, participant).

The actors who played the first and second roles in ancient Greek drama were known as the protagonist and deuteragonist, or sidekick. Proto- comes from πρῶτος ‎(first), a superlative of πρό ‎(before), and deuter- from δευτερ (second).

Proto goes back to the Proto-Indo-European *pro/*per- (to go over), which is also the root of:

– Proto-Celtic *ɸro = before, in front of, in addition
– Welsh rhy = too
– Irish ro = too
– Proto-Germanic *fram = from, by, due to
– English from
– Scots frae = from
– Swedish från = from; and fram = forward
– Icelandic frá = from, away from, about
– Latin per = through, by means of, during, and related words in Romance languages.

The antonym of protagonist is antagonist, from ἀντί ‎(against) and ἀγωνιστής (combatant, participant).

Source: Wiktionary

Plains, pianos and floors

Flat piano on a wooden floor

The Welsh word llawr [ɬau̯r] means floor, deck, gallery, stage, platform, cellar, basement, ground, face, and a few other things. I discovered today that it has cognates in all the other Celtic languages:

leur (Cornish) = floor, ground
leur (Breton) = area, ground, floor, soil
lár (Irish) = ground, floor, middle, centre
làr (Scottish Gaelic) = floor, ground, storey
laare (Manx) = storey, deck, floor, bottom, flat, set, sill, level

These words all come from the Proto-Celtic *ɸlārom (floor), which comes from the Proto-Indo-European *pleh₂rom or *ploh₂rom, from *pleh₂- ‎(to be flat).

THe PIE word *pleh₂- is the root of many other words, including:

– The English piano, plain, plan, floor and flake
– The Dutch vloer (floor, ground, surface)
– The German Flur (hall, hallway, corridor, stairwell)
– The Italian piano (flat, level, smooth, plane, softly, quietly)
– The Spanish llano (even, flat, level, plain) and plano (plain, level, flat)
– The Latvian: plats, plašs ‎(wide, broad)
– The Lithuanian: platus ‎(wide, broas)
– The Russian плоский (flat, plain, level)

Sources: Wiktionary, Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru, Maga Cornish Dictionary / Gerlyver Kernewek, Dictionnaires bilingues de Francis Favereau, teanglann.ie, Am Faclair Beag, On-Line Manx Dictionary, Reverso

Cold Wintry Wind

凩 (kogarashi) cold wintry wind

I learnt an interesting Japanese word and kanji today – 凩 (こがらし / kogarashi), which means ‘cold wintry wind’ or ‘the cold wind that reminds us winter is coming’. It is also written 木枯し or 木枯, and is considered ‘untranslatable‘ by some.

The character 凩 is a 国字 (こくじ / kokuji), that is one that was made in Japan rather than being borrowed from Chinese. It combines 几 (ki – armrest, desk, table, screen), which can also mean ‘to envelope; to wrap around’, with 木 (ki / moku – tree, shrub, bush, wood).

Other kokuji include:

– 凧 (いかのぼり; たこ – ikanobori; tako) = kite
– 凪 (なぎ; な.ぐ / nagi; nagu) = lull; calm
– 働く (はたらく / hataraku) = work
– 峠 (とうげ / tōge) = mountain peak; mountain pass; climax; crest
– 杢 (モク / moku) = woodworker
– 杣 (そま / soma) = timber; lumber; woodcutter

In Welsh there is a word that is similar to 凩: rhewynt, meaning an ‘ice-cold wind’, from rhew (frost, ice) and gwynt (wind, breath). There are also a number of other interesting wind-related expressions:

gwynt carthen = breeze created by shaking a blanket (said comtemptuously of a preacher’s artificial eloquence)
gwynt coch Amwythig = the east wind (“the red / sorching wind of Shrewsbury”)
gwynt y creigiau = north-west wind (“wind of the [Snowdonian] rocks”)
gwynt ffroen yr ych = the east wind (“the wind the ox’s nostril”)
gwynt pilyn = breeze created by shaking a sack in order to separate the chaff from the grain when wwinnowing (“wind of a garment”)
gwynt traed y meirw = the east wind (“the wind of dead men’s feet” – refers to the custom of burying people with their feet to the east)

Sources: http://www.sljfaq.org/afaq/kokuji-list.html, Geiriadur yr Academi, Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru

Are there equivalents of 凩 (kogarashi) in other languages?

Or other interesting wind-related expressions?

Going spooning

Welsh love spoons (llwyau caru)

There’s a tradition in Wales of men carving spoons out of wood and presenting them to the ladies they love. If a lady accepts a spoon, then she and the man are considered a couple – engagements and weddings were apparently not common in rural Wales until the 18th century [source]. The websites that discuss the love spoon (llwyau caru) tradition usually mention that it’s the origin of the English expression “to go spooning”, which is one I haven’t come across before.

A quick search on Google finds a number of books that include the phrase “to go spooning”, and from the context it appears to mean to go courting, but it’s not always clear. Are you familiar with this phrase at all?

Spooning has another meaning – “To lie down behind and against (another person) so that both bodies face the same direction with the knees drawn up slightly like nested spoons” [source], but I don’t think that’s what “to go spooning” is about.