Arrival of my first grandchild means even as a Man City fan I have a soft spot for his Newcastle team
There has been a very important development for Frank Mitchell – the birth of his first grandchild
One of my old teachers crossed my mind this week. Mr Hoben guided me to O level success in economics. He usually wore a grey suit with a V neck jumper over a shirt and tie. His narrow eyes and thick rimmed glasses suggested a crossness but his most memorable feature was his accent. It was regional English and sounded similar to some of the soldiers who would stop and search us as teenagers.
He stretched his words as people from his home town tend to do. His first name was Paul but we all called him Charlie. It didn't take much to get a nickname in the '70s. One day he was chastising a time waster by warning him that he would not accept anyone trying to be a 'Char-Lee' during lessons, and from that day this strict but outstanding teacher from Sunderland had been renamed.
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Telegraph
12 hours ago
- Telegraph
‘Despite the headlines, 'mischeevious' is not considered standard English'
'Mischievous'. It's a word that has come to define my week in quite unexpected ways, ever since I happened to answer a question from an audience member at the wonderful Hay Festival about changes to English that I find annoying. I explained that one bugbear I have recently overcome was the increasing use of the pronunciation 'mischeevious', since I have come to see the rationale for the change and to acknowledge its place in a long history of sound shifts that, for a lexicographer at least, are interesting to observe. The result was a right linguistic foofaraw, thanks to many a mischievous headline claiming I now consider 'mischeevious' to be entirely acceptable. I'm hoping I can set the record a little straighter now. The first thing to say is that a lexicographer's job is to chart the trajectory of words as they evolve. We are describers, not prescribers, of language, despite the understandable desire of many for some form of linguistic government. English has no equivalent to L'Académie française, a body that attempts to preside over the French language. English has always been an entirely democratic affair, subject to the will of the people, and it is inevitable that some of the changes it undergoes will prove irksome along the way. The fact that many of us are messing with the sound of 'mischievous' is clearly one. Despite the headlines, it is most definitely not considered standard English: in fact Oxford's dictionary of contemporary English offers unusually firm guidelines as to its usage: 'Mischievous is a three-syllable word. It should not be pronounced with four syllables with the stress on the second syllable, as if it were spelled mischievious'. Why, then, are we changing it? Is there any method to our madness? The answer involves a process that has informed linguistic evolution for centuries. In the case of 'mischievous', which comes from the Old French meschever, 'to come to an unfortunate end', the '-ievous' ending of the adjective is coming under the influence of such words as 'devious'. In the same way, it is becoming rare these days to hear reports of 'grievous bodily harm': I have heard 'grievious bodily harm' at least three times on news reports just this weekend. This is far from the only example of changing pronunciation, as readers will know all too well. 'Pacifically' and 'nucular' are two other repeat offenders. In the case of the former, 'pacifically' (already in the dictionary meaning 'peacefully'; the Pacific Ocean is the 'Peaceful Ocean') is judged by some to be easier to say, while the shift to 'nucular' brings it closer to such words as 'molecular' and 'secular' – there are fewer common words in current English ending with '-lear', with the exception perhaps of 'cochlear'. In each of these cases, familiarity seems to the catalyst. Similarly, it seems most people feel on 'tenderhooks' these days, rather than 'tenterhooks'. The latter were once a common feature in cloth-manufacturing districts, for they were wooden frames erected in rows in the open air on 'tenter-fields'. Wet cloth would be hooked onto them to be stretched after milling, allowing it dry evenly without shrinkage. Metaphorically, to be on tenterhooks is to be as taut, tense, and in suspense as the wool itself. Today, tenters are no longer a feature of our countryside, resulting in 'tenderhooks' being chosen for the job instead. I of course regret the loss of the story behind such words, but the joy of etymology is digging beneath the surface to discover these treasures of the past. Lest you feel your blood pressure rising already, there is some reassurance in the fact that such shifts are nothing new. If you've ever wondered what a Jerusalem artichoke has to do with Jerusalem, the answer is absolutely nothing: the name arose because English speakers in the 16th century struggled with the Italian word 'girasole', which means 'sunflower' (the Jerusalem artichoke is a heliotrope). It sounded a little like 'Jerusalem', so they plumped for that instead. At the same time, 'asparagus' must have proved equally challenging, for English speakers some 400 years ago decided to call it 'sparrowgrass' instead. The expression a 'forlorn hope' is a mangling of the Dutch 'verloren hoop', or 'lost troop', describing the vanguard of an army that fell in battle. It's hard to deny that there is poetry in our substitution. Slips of the tongue and ear are more common than you might think. Such words as 'umpire', 'apron', 'adder', and 'nickname' are the direct result of mistaken assumptions, for they began respectively as a 'noumpere', a 'napron', and a 'nadder'. In each case the 'n' drifted over to the 'a', since when spoken out loud it was hard to tell which word the letter belonged to. There are dozens more examples. 'Teeny' is an alteration of 'tiny', 'innards' is a take on 'inwards', 'manhandle' is a semi-logical riff on 'mangle', and 'tootsie' represents a child's delivery of 'footsie'. Other words that once wore their hearts on their sleeves have changed their sounds completely: a cupboard was pronounced with 'cup' and 'board' fully intact; only later did we decide it was a 'cubbard'. A 'ward-robe', or 'keeper of robes', is now more usually a 'war-drobe2. And let's not even start with a process known as 'haplology', where a word's syllable is swallowed entirely: who pronounces 'February' with the middle 'r' these days? You're more likely to hear 'probably' as 'probly', too, and a 'library' as a 'libry'. Even our idioms have taken a strange turn over the centuries. Why does 'head over heels' describe being upended by love when this is our regular bodily position? The answer is that the original was 'heels over head', meaning to turn a somersault, but at some point in the phrase's history the idiom was mistakenly (and fittingly) turned upside down. None of these changes mean we should no longer care. The opposite, in fact, for having bugbears means we are passionate about our words and wish to protect their beauty and clarity. What's more, when we mangle them, we run the risk of distracting our audience, and losing our meaning in the process. But it also feels important to know that language – and English in particular – has always been unpredictable and occasionally erratic, changing as its users wish it to, even if that is occasionally by mistake. I'll finish with one request: please don't shoot the messenger. I'm beginning to realise that there is a reason why I am occasionally called a 'minefield' of information.
Daily Mirror
19 hours ago
- Daily Mirror
Warning for pruning lavender as gardeners told to not make one mistake
Lavender is a staple in gardens across Britain, but by doing this one simple and common mistake while pruning, you could be stopping your plant from ever growing back Lavender can be a great addition to any garden. With its bright purple flowers and soothing smells it has become a staple of many British gardens. It's easy and quick to grow and can often be a great addition to borders or pots to bring a garden to life with its elegance - not to mention the home of bees it will soon attract. But with its stalks quickly becoming bushy and overgrown the plants often need a good prune to keep them healthy and your garden looking neat and tidy. But with all that maintenance there's one mistake that even experienced gardeners make that can actually have a drastic impact on your plant's ability to grow. Luckily for gardeners, there's just one simple, golden rule that ensures the plants will keep coming back stronger than ever. The answer - never prune down to the woody branches. Cutting all the way back into the old, woody stems may seem like a good idea to neaten a lavender, but it's a big no-no. Unlike other plants where aggressive pruning can keep them healthy and alive, it's a common misconception that lavender follows this trend. In fact for the purple plant, the opposite is true. Lavender doesn't readily re-sprout from old woody stems and instead, to produce new shoots, relies on the leafier parts that are sensitive to light to create the energy for the new flowers. Once you've made the cut all the way down to the woody base, you're likely to be left with bare, lifeless stubs that will struggle to green up again, this can lead to a patchy plant with large gaps of bloom and leave your pots looking bare. So what actually is the best way to prune lavender? As a general rule, keep to the green parts, a few inches above the woody section and ideally around half of the current year's growth, this not only neatens the plants out but also encourages new growth and maintains a healthy, compact plant. For English lavender too the best time to prune is soon approaching, typically when the first lot of flowers have started to fade, although it should be noted that after August you've officially missed the boat, with gardeners told to wait until the following spring before you can neaten up your borders. There are of course rare situations where you might need to break the rule and remove damaged or diseased stems, but even then, try to cut back into the green growth above the damage to give it a fighting chance of re-sprouting.
North Wales Chronicle
a day ago
- North Wales Chronicle
Flog It! expert's collection ‘most comprehensive set of York silver to be sold'
Baggott's death aged 51 in hospital after a heart attack, which followed a stroke in October, was announced earlier this year. The collection, expected to make more than £200,000, comprises hundreds of lots, including an extensive selection of York silver, as well as items assessed in assay offices in Liverpool, Chester, Dundee, Newcastle, Bristol, Exeter and Aberdeen. Highlights include a George IV gilt sideboard dish from Birmingham silversmith Sir Edward Thomason, with an an estimate of £2,000 to £3,000; a rare George II provincial mug by Liverpool silversmith Benjamin Brancker, with an estimate of £1,500-£2,000; and a Robert Hennell-produced Victorian novelty Jester pepper pot dating from 1868, with an estimate of £1,000-£1,500. There is also a tankard by Benjamin Cartwright, who was London-based, which could go for between £1,500 and £2,000, and a rare George IV provincial Gibson-type medicine spoon, which was named after the doctor who designed them, with an estimate of £600 to £800. Rupert Slingsby, silver specialist at Woolley and Wallis auctioneers, said: 'The Baggott collection is probably the most comprehensive collection of silver assayed in York ever to come on to the open market. 'It includes over 550 pieces from the late 17th century to the closure of the (York) assay office in 1858.' Another item is a George IV silver-mounted naval snuff box, bearing the words 'Made of the wood from Northern Discover Ships by Michael Jones at Deptford, 5th May 1824', which is believed to be a reference to 16th-century English vessels sent to find a northern sea route to Asia. Baggott, born in Birmingham, was an authority on antique silver, specialising in early spoons, boxes and provincial and continental silver. His interest in antiques began in his early years, and he progressed to work in Christie's auction house and was head of silver at Sotheby's Billingshurst for a number of years, before becoming a private consultant. Baggott was also a published author, having written An Illustrated Guide To York Hallmarks 1776-1858 and As Found: A Lifetime In Antiques. He joined BBC daytime show Flog It! in the early 2000s, and valued various silver objects. Earlier this year, the head of BBC daytime and early peak commissioning, Rob Unsworth, described him as as one of Flog It!'s 'most memorable characters', and an 'expert in all manner of collectables but in particular with unrivalled knowledge and enthusiasm for antique spoons and silver'. The Antiques Roadshow-style programme – which saw members of the public having their antique items appraised by experts before being given the option to sell them at auction – began in 2002. The corporation announced in 2018 that the series was being axed in a shake-up of BBC One's daytime schedule. The Baggott sale begins on July 15 at 10am. The estimates do not included buyer's premium, which the auction house said was 26% on top of sales.
