Are elephants afraid of mice?

 Are elephants afraid of mice?

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The belief that elephants fear mice has been promulgated from ancient days. Greek myths and fables suggested that a mouse could crawl into an elephant’s trunk and suffocate it.

Cartoonists and artists seized upon the idea and produced countless images of large grey mammals cowering in terror at the sight of small similarly coloured creatures. Elephants have relatively poor eyesight and cannot jump but may be startled by the sudden movements of a mouse appearing, just as a human may be flustered by the sight of a spider scuttling across the floor.

However, elephants, specifically African elephants, are fearful of something even smaller than a mouse. Aggressive African honey bees, prone to swarming, (sometimes they swarm every six weeks) sting elephants in tender areas behind their ears, near their mouths and eyes, and inside their trunks. Juvenile elephants with thinner skin are especially susceptible to the pain of bee stings.

 When confronted with a swarm, elephants react by flapping their ears, trumpeting, stirring up dust, and leaving the area as quickly as possible. 

Eggcorns

 

Eggcorns

This word was unknown to me until recently. It’s an ugly word, in my opinion, though I’m not sure why I consider it so. Anyway, I was curious about its origins and discovered that it’s actually quite a baby in linguistic terms.

An eggcorn is the modification of a word or phrase to something that sounds similar and is acceptable in the appropriate context. It arose from a commentary in 2003 by the American linguist, Mark Liberman, in ‘Language Log’ about a woman who had used the name ‘egg corn’ instead of acorn. It seemed appropriate, as acorns from many types of oak trees are egg-shaped, and are the seed or ‘corn’ from which oaks grow.

 His fellow linguist, British-American Geoffrey Pullum, proposed naming this kind of substitution ‘an eggcorn.’

Eggcorns occur when people try to make sense of what they’re hearing and adapt words accordingly. It is something young children do frequently. Language is a mystery to little ones, and they attempt to mould it to their understanding. Thus, in the Christmas carol, ‘Away in a manger’ they sing ‘til morning is night’ rather than ‘til morning is nigh.’ It doesn’t make sense, but ‘nigh’ is not a word with which they’re familiar.

In the Angel Gabriel’s message, Mary becomes a ‘highly-flavoured lady.’

When I was a child I wondered why we always said ‘Amen’ and never ‘Awomen.’

Currying favour

 

Currying favour

Currying favour or trying to get into someone’s good books relies on flattery or obsequiousness. It is a strange expression and has nothing whatever to do with food or spicy condiments. It comes from the 13^th century Old French ‘correier’ which meant ‘to prepare or arrange’ and was used for the grooming of horses. By the 14^th century it was used expressly to describe brushing and rubbing down horses. The tool used for that is a curry comb.

The expression ‘curry favour’ derived from a 14^th century satirical French poem, ‘Roman de Fauvel’ by Gervais du Bus.  The horse’s name, Fauvel, references the French adjective ‘fauve’ which means tawny or chestnut. (As a noun, fauve refers to wild animals whose coats are reddish-brown.)

Fauvel, the horse of the poem, was fallow, that is, pale tawny in colour. In mediaeval times a fallow horse was considered deceitful and cunning. His name was a play on the words ‘faux voile’ meaning false veil and was also an acrostic detailing the vices of Flattery, Avarice, Villainy, Variability, Envy, and Laxity.

Fauvel was a duplicitous horse who tricked his way into the French royal court and was courted and fêted by sycophantic dignitaries and important church officials in high positions. They won his favour by grooming him, brushing mud and sweat from his coat to win his approval and support. Eventually, he became the most significant figure in the court.

The phrase came to England in the 15^th century, and by the next century fauvel had changed to favour. Favour is an eggcorn (or phonetic corruption) which is a misunderstanding or mispronunciation of the original. (Other examples of eggcorns include ‘per say’ for ‘per se’, ’beckon call’ for ‘beck and call,’ ‘doggy dog world’ instead of ‘dog eat dog world)

Spotted

 

It is November, isn’t it?

Spotted in the garden this foggy November morning were bright raspberries.

I know the seasons are more than usually muddled in the UK this year, but this is remarkable.

Slush fund

 

Slush fund

This is a term that is bandied about freely (and bandied about is another interesting expression)

It can be used innocently to describe an emergency supply of savings, money for ‘a rainy day.’  However, to many, if not most, people, a slush fund implies a bribe in business or politics, a sum of money set aside in hidden accounts for nefarious purposes.

In the 18^th century, during long sea voyages, ships carried provisions of salted pork and beef. The ship’s cooks boiled the meat in large cauldrons and as the fat, known as slush, rose to the surface, it would be skimmed off and stored in barrels.

 On reaching port, the slush would be sold to local merchants for use in the manufacture of candles, or soap, or shoes. The resulting cash was used to buy non-essential goods for the crew, things like books, musical instruments, or tobacco. Occasionally it would be used to supplement ship’s rations with tea or sugar.

Sometimes the captain and the cooks would keep the money so acquired for themselves, denying the rest of the crew any share of the spoils. The first documented case was printed in William McNally’s 1839 book, ‘Evils and Abuses in the Naval and Merchant Service.’ Officers and cooks conspired to keep the cash for themselves or to bribe others to keep the secret.

Thus began the change of meaning from ‘extra cash’ to ‘illicit money.’ The oldest political instance was in 1874, when the expression ‘slush fund’ appeared in the US Congressional Record. It referenced a fund acquired annually by Congress that was distributed without auditing.

There have been many infamous and well-documented instances of slush fund dealings in US, UK, Australia, Canada, Japan, Germany – in fact, it is doubtful if there are there any countries in which slush funds have not been used at some point.

Current listening

 

Current listening

Whenever I reach the end of a particularly enjoyable book or series, I embark on another with some trepidation. The books may be brilliantly conceived and plotted but if the narrator’s voice seems inappropriate for some reason, or even none (it’s very subjective) the listening experience will be ruined.

The narrators of the ‘Marcus Didius Falco’ series by Lindsey Davis were Christian Rodska, Gordon Griffin, Richard Mitchley, and Jamie Glover. The two I preferred, who had completely dissimilar voices, were Rodska and Griffin.

I am now listening to the DS Cross series by Tim Sullivan, narrated mainly by Finlay Robertson. Detective Sergeant George Cross is a detective based in Bristol with the Somerset and Avon police. He has an enviably successful record in solving crimes, and the highest conviction rate in the force. For those reasons his many idiosyncrasies are forgiven, if not overlooked. 

He dislikes crowds and noise, finds speaking to a room full of people unnerving, and his social skills are sadly lacking. George Cross is neurodivergent, (‘on the spectrum’) and speaks his mind, without filters. He is dogged in his pursuit of the truth, revising the facts of a case until he is satisfied that he has found the answer to the riddle. 

He is aided by his colleague, DS Josie Ottey, who softens his approach with her more empathetic manner.  

There are some laugh aloud moments in the books and a certain poignancy to the stories.

Nothing ventured

 

Nothing ventured, nothing gained

This is similar in sentiment to the official SAS motto, ‘Who dares wins.’

It may have its origins in Ancient Greece, from Thucydides (c.460 BC to c.400 BC) the Athenian soldier and historian, who in his ‘History of the Peloponnesian War’ wrote ‘to those who dare, fortune is favourable’ or simply, ‘fortune favours the bold.’ (toîs tolmôsin hē túkhē xúmphoros)

It also matches the Latin ’maxim nil periculum’ meaning ‘no danger is too great’ or ‘no risk, no gain.’ It, and similar phrases, were popular across Europe by the 16th century. It first appeared in print in English in its current form in the late 18^th century.

An illustration of the saying can be found in the Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25, vv. 14-30) It is all too easy to waste one’s talents, or at least not develop them fully, particularly in our youth. Wisdom comes slowly to some, and to others not at all! Similarly, it is easy to remain within one’s comfort zone and not venture forth.

To make progress and achieve success, one must try new things and take a calculated risk.

Bananas in Pyjamas

Bananas in pyjamas

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

 

Thinking about pyjamas reminded me of the children’s rhyme, ‘Bananas in pyjamas.’ It was the name of an Australian television series for young children which began broadcasting in July 1992.

It was inspired by the nonsense song written by Carey Blyton in 1967 (or 1969, depending on which source you trust.)

Bananas in Pyjamas

Are coming down the stairs

Bananas in Pyjamas

Are coming down in pairs

Bananas in Pyjamas

Are chasing Teddy Bears

'Cause on Tuesdays they all try to catch them unawares.

 

Carey Blyton’s aunt was the children’s writer, Enid Blyton. He was born in Beckenham, Kent where he attended grammar school. While there, he was interested in science, but music held no appeal for him. 

In 1948, when he was sixteen, he contracted poliomyelitis and learnt to play the piano during his recovery and convalescence. This ignited a lifelong interest in music and the foundation of his career.

 

In 1953 he entered Trinity College of Music, London and began training as a composer. During his four-year course he studied piano, harpsichord, and viola, as well as harmony, orchestration, and musical history.

In his subsequent work he wrote humorous songs, chamber music, and short orchestral scores, and lectured at Trinity College, London, and Guildhall School of Music and Drama. He was also Benjamin Britten’s personal music editor.

 Among other works, Carey Blyton wrote the incidental music for three Dr Who serials, and many books for children, including one called ‘Bananas in Pyjamas: a book of nonsense songs and poems.’ 

One of his last compositions was a string orchestra tribute to Diana, Princess of Wales, ‘Vale, Diana.’

He died in Woodbridge, Suffolk, in 2002, from cancer and post-polio syndrome. He was seventy.

Post-polio syndrome occurs in more than 80% of patients, presenting typically 15 to 30 years after the initial infection. It is a progressive condition, causing weakness, pain, loss of muscle strength and disabling fatigue.

Pairs

 

Pairs

A pair denotes two of something. A pair of socks – one for each foot; a pair of gloves, right and left, but a pair of spectacles, with a separate lens for each eye, is a single item. Similarly, a pair of tweezers or scissors or pliers are single implements, composed of two symmetrical parts.

A pair of knickers comprises two elements joined in the middle. Originally, knickers or ‘drawers’ were two leg coverings joined at the waist with buttons, ribbons, or laces. They were called drawers because they were drawn or pulled up over the legs (so why weren’t they called ‘pullers’?)

Trousers also originated as two tubes of material. Things that started as two elements but became one are ‘bifurcated’ items. They can be divided into two even parts.

Nightshirt

 

Nightshirt, pyjamas, or something (or nothing) else?

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In the Middle Ages there were no underpants and vests.

A long shirt served as an undergarment for men. At the end of the day all apparel apart from the shirt was removed and it was worn in bed, for warmth and modesty.

As time progressed and underwear was developed, the shirt became specifically a garment for nightwear. Traditionally, it was ankle length with long sleeves and was frequently accompanied by a nightcap, essential on chilly winter nights to preserve body warmth.

During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, British men returning to home shores from India brought with them examples of pyjamas. Pyjama, deriving from the Persian and Hindustani ‘pay-jama’ or ‘pai jama,’ and meaning ‘leg clothing,’ were loose-fitting trousers intended as casual lounge wear.

Towards the second half of the nineteenth century, nightshirts were being replaced by pyjamas. Following the issue of pyjamas to serving soldiers in the First World War, the two-part pyjama set became men’s standard nightwear in the 1930s.

Fashions change and the twentieth century saw the decline of traditional pyjamas in favour of boxer shorts and tee shirts or similar as nightwear. However, some men continue to favour the nightshirt, regarding it as convenient and comfortable.

Others prefer to wear nothing in bed.

 

Jellicoe

 

Jellicoe

Our brave little cat died last Thursday morning.

Kittenish!

In his almost fourteen years of life, he won the hearts of all who met him, not just family and friends but also the professionals who dealt with him. He adored people and rewarded their attention with rich purrs and headbutts. Though armed with needle-sharp teeth and claws he never bit or scratched, even when undergoing undignified treatment requiring him to be restrained. He simply purred.

Enjoying Gilbert's warmth

When he wasn’t sitting on a human lap he was tucked up with dogs, grooming them.

The literary cat

Four and a half years ago he was diagnosed with diabetes. This condition can be difficult to manage in cats and Jellicoe’s case was particularly tricky, resulting in him having several stays in veterinary hospital. Every time he had a crisis we thought he was not going to survive and every time he proved us, and his vets, wrong. He was known to our vets as ‘One Of A Kind.’

This time it was not to be. His heart and kidneys had started to fail and treatment for one exacerbated the other and so we sadly let him go painlessly and peacefully to sleep.

Making sure Gilbert doesn't go anywhere!

It should feel strange without him, and we certainly miss his protestations that it must surely be time for a meal, but somehow it seems as though he’s still here with us. He was such a character and met and charmed two new people just the day before he died.

 Now perhaps it’s time for Herschel to emerge from Jellicoe’s shadow and enjoy his moment in the spotlight, just as Jellicoe did when their brother Isambard died.

The brothers, Jellicoe, Isambard (foreground) and Herschel.

Herschel has always been responsive, but is it our imagination that he is chatting more than ever? He is becoming accustomed to a new routine, with just two meals a day rather than the four we had to provide for Jellicoe.

A basket of kittens

Barry has often remarked that Herschel, Isambard, and Jellicoe were the best birthday presents he has ever had. They have certainly provided years of memorable entertainment and companionship.

Up, up, and away

 

Up, up, and away

Why do birds fly upwards when escaping from confinement?

The clearest answer is that gaining height is an instinctive response to danger from predators. Most threats originate from ground level, though there are exceptions. For example, the sparrowhawk ambushes weaker, smaller birds on the ground, when they are feeding, or when they are flying.

Flying up increases the chance of creating distance between predator and prey.

Small birds flap their wings rapidly to push air down against the ground or their perch, and that creates lift. Larger birds drop down from cliff tops or tree perches, then flap their wings to maintain height. Some, like swans and geese run along the water surface to gather speed then take off, often into the wind.

Jigsaw

 

Jigsaw

I’ve just completed a 1000-piece jigsaw. I don’t know if it’s accurately 1,000 pieces or just an approximation. I didn’t count the pieces, nor do I intend to. Having reached the end, almost, I found that three pieces were missing. It may be that the cats found their way into the dining room, where they’re not usually allowed, and knocked a couple of pieces to the floor.

Maybe the missing parts will appear eventually, and maybe they won’t. I’m not going to worry about them.

Jigsaw puzzles first appeared in the second half of the 18^th century. Around 1760 John Spilsbury, a British mapmaker, pasted a map of Europe onto wood and cut round the countries’ borders, for it to serve as a geographical visual aid. This original version was known as a ‘dissection’ or a ‘dissected map.’ Such maps were manufactured for the children of wealthy families.

 The name ‘jigsaw’ was adopted from the middle of the 19^th century because a jigsaw was the tool used to cut the pieces. Fretsaws or scroll saws were other tools used.  Why were the puzzles called jigsaws and not fretsaws or scroll saws?

They were known as jigsaw puzzles from 1906 and became an adult obsession in the following years. Jigsaws grew in popularity throughout the 20^th century with the advent of cheaper cardboard puzzles. They became particularly prevalent during the Great Depression of 1929 to 1939 (1941 in the USA) 

This global economic downturn was caused by strict trade tariffs, stock speculation, the collapse of banks, and mismanagement of agriculture. Called the ‘devil’s decade’ in UK, it resulted in loss of industry and mass unemployment which ended with the commencement of the Second World War.

There was a resurgent interest in jigsaws during the Covid Pandemic, when people were restricted in their activities and thrown back on their own resources.

Modern jigsaws take a variety of forms, from simple wooden puzzles for very young children, to three-dimensional constructions. As with all hobbies there are dedicated enthusiasts whose entire lives seem to revolve around their interest. The annual World Jigsaw Puzzle Championships have been conducted since 2019.