Archive for the ‘Morning names’ Category

haws, hawthorns, Haworth, Haworthia, Hawick

May 8, 2018

Today’s morning name was Haworthia, the genus of some attractive succulent plants. Named for a person named for a place (celebrated for its Brontë connections) named for the hawthorn bush or tree (Crataegus), which bears haws as its fruit. Incidentally, Haworth (/ˈhæwɜːrθ/), in Yorkshire, led me by spelling to Hawick (remarkably, pronounced /ˈhɔɪk/), in Scotland, though apparently it’s hawks in Hawick vs. haws in Haworth.

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Ocotillo

May 6, 2018

The morning name for today, lurking no doubt in my subsconscious after days of looking at, thinking about, and posting about desert plants. The green plant:

(#1)

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Visit to a Small Planet

April 29, 2018

My morning name from a couple of days ago: the title of the Broadway play starring Cyril Ritchard, specifically (and not the movie starring Jerry Lewis):

(#1) Playbill for the show

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acuminate

April 29, 2018

Today’s morning name, and it turns out to be surprisingly relevant today.

adjective acuminate: Biology (of a plant or animal structure, e.g. a leaf) tapering to a point. ORIGIN late 16th century: from late Latin acuminatus ‘pointed’, from acuminare ‘sharpen to a point’, from acuere ‘sharpen’ [cf. acute].

Relevant to my daily life through the variegated agave (Agave desmetiana) that flourishes on my back patio (last noted here in my 11/4/17 posting “The succulent report”); it has wicked needle-like — acuminate — leaf tips that wound me every time I try to work around the plant. These plants evolved to seriously stave off herbivores and other pesky creatures.

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Polydactyly

April 25, 2018

My morning name a couple of days ago, but it came with a (mental) video that presented itself as offering ground-breaking insights into the structure of language but turned out to be a series of professional-grade photos of the feet (well, the right foot in each case) of former graduate students of mine. Not in any way erotic — I’m not especially given to podophilia — but, once I came to full consciousness and was no longer in the grip of my vivid dream, decidedly creepy.

One of the feet was that of a serious dancer; most were, oh let me say it anyway, pedestrian; but one was a sturdy male foot (belonging to a man I’ll refer to as PD) with extreme polydactyly: two perfect small toes between the big toe and the second toe, and one equally perfect small toe between each of the three remaining pairs. So ten toes in all, making a double-dactylic foot. (Cue: poetic meter.)

Apparently an extremely rare form of polydactyly (whether pedal or manual), not illustrated in anything I could find on the net.

(I don’t recall having seen PD’s feet, but I suspect that his toes are unremarkable)

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Jessica Dragonette in the morning

April 8, 2018

My morning name on the 6th: Jessica Dragonette. Why her name came up, I have no clue. A photo from her heyday:

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Morning name: Harry

April 3, 2018

My morning name a while back was just Harry. Some possibiities:

Dirty Harry. The Trouble With Harry. Harry Truman. Harry Hamblin. Prince Harry. Harry Houdini. Harry Potter. Harry Reems. Harry Connick Jr. Harry the Horse. Harry Frankfurt. Harry Belafonte.

But none of these. I instantly connected to Harry B. Miller, Jr., my first cousin-in-law. And then discovered that he’d died back in 2013.

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Saturday Night and Sunday Morning

April 2, 2018

Yesterday was Sunday, and the morning name for the day was, appropriately, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning (the movie, and the book on which it was based):

(#1)

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Secretive morning name

March 29, 2018

That would be sebum, which led me almost immediately to semen and smegma: /s/-initial disyllables with accent on the first syllable that refer to bodily secretions.

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Vronsky & Babin in the morning

February 20, 2018

Yesterday morning, up and brushing my teeth, the name Vronsky & Babin came to me unbidden. At first I thought Vronsky must be the Count Vronsky of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, but I was baffled by Babin (some transformation of the writer Isaac Babel?), and in any case the pairing sounded vaguely familiar. I went to the computer and discovered that V&B were indeed familiar, though I don’t think I’d heard about them for decades: a great duo-piano team of the last century.

But why had their names popped into my head? There turned out to be a clear answer, involving intricacies of memory and the unconscious.

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