“Buttercup’s mother whirled on him. ‘Did you forget to pay your taxes?’ (This was after taxes. But everything is after taxes. Taxes were here even before stew.)” ― William Goldman, The Princess Bride
This is fascinating, educational and fun. One of the things they may not tell you when they give you the keys to the time travel machine is that language is a living thing, and English is now very old.
Linguist and teacher Colin Gorrie decided to illustrate how the English language has changed over the last 1000 years by writing a post that slowly transitions from the modern day, in hundred year increments. How far back can you understand?
He arrives, he checks in. He walks to the cute B&B he’d picked out online. And he writes it all up like any good travel blogger would: in that breezy LiveJournal style from 25 years ago, perhaps, in his case, trying a little too hard.
But as his post goes on, his language gets older. A hundred years older with each jump. The spelling changes. The grammar changes. Words you know are replaced by unfamiliar words, and his attitude gets older too, as the blogger’s voice is replaced by that of a Georgian diarist, an Elizabethan pamphleteer, a medieval chronicler.
By the middle of his post, he’s writing in what might as well be a foreign language.
The last 300 years aren’t so bad, but then things start to get squiffy enough that I hope you’re planning to pack a fairly comprehensive dictionary. The success of your time travel adventures may depend on it!
* * *
Is this a statue of a time traveler holding a dictionary? Photo by Tim Wildsmith on Unsplash
Like so many of you, I spend a lot of my life looking at screens. I try to keep my eyes healthy but you know how it is, you start the day at the writing computer and then move to the work computer, and then you’re just about to take a break when an email comes in about an important work project, or family thing, or taxes. And when I do get time to take a break? I read a book.
By the end of the day, my eyes are frazzled. Just me? I’m betting the answer is no, which is why I’m sharing this happy little comic about taking care of your eyes.
* Full post title: And so, for reasons completely and entirely related to the hockey game just played at a certain Italian ice rink, Mr Man and I are heading out into the woods in order to embrace the beauty that is inherent in Nature, and immerse ourselves in the glory and joy that is to be found in this great nation. Because we could use some calm right about now. (And could I have titled this post “Oh, Canada”? Yes, but I very much did not because this country punches way above its weight through sheer heart and vision and commitment (and insanely early hockey practice, let it be said!), and there is no way I’m trash-talking that.) So we didn’t get gold this year, and yeah, that stings. But we are winning where it counts. Go Canada!
“We have nothing to fear and a great deal to learn from trees, that vigorous and pacific tribe which without stint produces strengthening essences for us, soothing balms, and in whose gracious company we spend so many cool, silent, and intimate hours.” ― Marcel Proust
“Hey, Self, we haven’t made bread in a while. Maybe it’s time.”
“Sure, sounds good. And while we’re at it, let’s play around with the rise. This sourdough levain looks great, let’s try using just that and a pinch of yeast and see where that takes us.”
“Terrific idea, Self!”
/hours pass
“So, this second rise is taking forever, right?”
“Indeed it is. Perhaps our fun and innovative exploration into alternative rise methodologies wasn’t a wise move after all.”
“True, true, but the fireplace is on, let’s see if raising the heat will help.”
/another hour passes with encouraging results
“This is working, we just need more heat. Let’s move the dough off the coffee table and snug it right up against the fireplace.”
“Excellent idea, Self. The cat’s super sacked out, what’s the worst that could happen?”
No, he’s not sorry.
/sigh, although in my defense, the dough was covered with several layers of tea towel plus plastic.
“Yet, through all the gloom, I can see the rays of ravishing light and glory. I can see that the end is more than worth all the means. And that posterity will triumph in that day’s transaction…” ― John Adams
If there’s one thing I frequently excel at, it’s doing things badly. And I don’t mean this in a negative way.
I find something really enjoyable about just muddling through low-stakes activities, because for me at least, it’s clear that it’s all about fun. If it’s something I’ve never tried before, I’m not going to be great right off the bat. And I’m not there to win prizes, head off to the Olympics, or generally ratchet up expectations to the point of stress. It’s a temporary retreat to childhood with many of the perks and few of the perils.
For example, we’re going snowshoeing today and I fully expect to be terrible at it. And that’s okay!
With any luck, a good time will be had even as I fall, get snow in my mittens, and laugh hysterically while generally have a blast.
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