Three Beautiful Things

Word Imperfect is back in action with her invented meaning word game -- go on over and join in. 1. That book that Caroline thought I'd like -- she was quite right. I do really, really like it. Tim Gautreaux's Waiting for the Evening News: Stories of the Deep South . It manages to be both dark and up-lifting. These are stories about people who fall and fall, and come back stronger and wiser. 2. Nick shakes off his umbrella and pulls from his bag: a very large box of chocolates and the latest Gardener's World magazine. 3. I was emailing secret chef -- yes, we have a clandestine restaurant in the area -- asking for a quick interview, and my spell-checker flagged the word restauranteur. A quick search later, and I discovered that the word is actually restaurateur (although my spelling is just about tolerated in more liberal circles). I've never noticed that -- never seen it mentioned in all the newspaper style guides that I've read. But that's the English ...

These posts come from a holiday in Anglesey -- you can see a few family pictures on Rosey's website Through Rosey's Tinted Spectacles here , here , and here . 1. The mother across the aisle from us whiles away the journey by singing to her baby. She has a version of Row Row Row Your Boat which I haven't heard before, involving various animals and what you mustn't forget to do if you see them. 2. We bargain with my father who is picking us up so that we can get off the train at Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch ... because who wouldn't want to have their picture taken under the sign. There is some irony in the fact that passengers must get off from the middle of the train as the platform is too short to accomodate the ends of the two carriages. 3. At the house, there is a cake (made by my aunt) which depicts my father lying in a hammock with a large bottle of beer clutched to his chest.

1. I stare at my starter: deep purple juice runs into the creme fraiche and creates feathered Mandelbrot sets on the pancake. 2. A dish of orange slices arranged in caramel. 3. We learn a new word: limerence -- it means, really, 'fallen-in-loveness'. Joyce (who is a relationship counsellor by day) uses it to explain my complaint that at present Nick and I find it very difficult to get anything done because we're always thinking about each other. Limerence lasts just 18 months to three years, so it could end for us at any moment (this makes it seem all the more exciting). Joyce says that with luck and skill it will turn into an affectionate bond. At that stage we should be able to get the housework down with fewer breaks for kissing.

1. The rain and the work clear up, so at lunch time we take a walk in the woods to see mist, puff balls, rosehips and rain-fat blackberries. 2. As I fumble with my keys to open the door, the hall light goes on. 3. I chat on the phone to Alan about unpacking the last couple of boxes. He fills in the details, a word-picture of Nick opening a box, recoiling in horror and turning on his heel, coat tails flying.

1. In my pile of morning reading, a list of homographs makes me perk up -- I'd never noticed evening and evening or moped and moped. 3. Popping broad beans out of their pods -- I like the foamy lining. 2. A Freecycle pick-up. At 9am, I decide I want a soldering iron to fix my hairclip. At 4.30pm, I find one waiting on an assigned bench.

1. Many pavements and walls have a blue glass evil eye charm in them. Even the corporate pavement outside a bank has a few pressed into the grout between the tiles. I imagine builders carrying a pocketful and surreptitiously dropping a few where they are needed. 2. In the centre of town, we spot a raised and red-painted heart on a wall of undressed honey-coloured stone. 3. During our Turkish bath, they fill a wet pillowcase with air and squeeze a cloud of bubbles over us. The bath is full of sensations -- warm water poured over my heels; heat from the marble slab; exfoliation; a four-handed massage. Whenever a ministration tickles, it makes me laugh, and I catch the attendant's eye. He smiles right back. 4. We have been been struggling for two days with 'Thank you' -- 'Teşekkür ederim'. Our waiter tells us to 'think of three English words. The first is "tea". The second is "sugar". And say dream. And say it quickly -- "tea-sugar-dream...

1. I walk through Soho and red lanterns bob overhead. 2. Overheard conversation: 'All I wanted was a c***ing sandwich and you've f***ed it up again.' 3. Nick takes me down narrow alleys and ancient streets to a secret city garden hidden away behind Oxford Street.

1. We spend much of the day making a list of words forbidden in usernames on our website. We need to break every tabboo, which causes hysterical laughter; and every so often, someone will come up with a new phrase which needs to be discussed before it can be added to the list. 2. Katie has had a bad day. But a martini, a shower and the prospect of a night out with Paul Elvis Chan cheer her up. 3. Mark B has asked that his lovely soft jumper be mentioned.

1. Ibuprofen and hot water bottles. 2. Ian trying to get a mention here by suggesting I write about his curly hair or possibly his thoughts on Tyrannosaurus rexes pleasuring each other. 3. Talking to the man next to me about a mutual friend and trying to explain what it is I like about her. Later in the evening, when everyone is drunk and making confessions to each other, I overhear him telling our friend that 'someone used the most wonderful word to describe you earlier...'

1. The cosy feeling of an office surrounded by fog. 2. The jolly and helpful man at Tunbridge Wells Borough Council who took my call about moving house. 3. Feeding a comment about 3BT from a Chinese language blog into Babelfish and seeing myself described as an eldest sister. I love the cryptic phrasing -- what is 'the psychological stratification plane' and who is the abundant guest? The comment: 'The record happy present, actually will be the forecast happy future,' is not in conventional English, but I think I get the idea!

1. Seeing all the places I used to read about when I was subbing the local paper -- Chipstead and its lake, Downe, Biggin Hill, Knockholt and Pratts Bottom . 2. Andy has been teaching me backgammon, and I'm now good enough to beat him sometimes; and for him not to hold back. I feel as if I'm starting to be interesting to play against. 3. Visiting Down House and walking the Sand Path the Darwin used to help him think. And learning something about the homelife of a great thinker. His household seems to have been a very warm and cheery place, with children sliding downstairs on a stairboard, and punting about the drawing room on a wheeled microscope stool, and the great man playing billiards with his butler.

Items of interest Three Beautiful Things scientifically proven (thanks to all those who told me about this article). I've written on One At All , the project that lets nations compare their ways of life, about: Local customs of my country ; In my country the days we celebrate are and The most important fact in my country's history . And now, back to normal service. 1. Being allowed to hold the nephew of He Who Shall Not Be Named. The baby was very sweet -- even if he did posset, hiccup and suffer from a bit of wind. It was also good to meet HWSNBN's sister, having heard so much about her, and it's always fun to have a baby to pass round the office. 2. A mysterious noise outside my window turns out to be the Men From the Council stringing Christmas lights across the High Street. They were working just a couple of bay windows away from me. 3. Being told that 'joyous' is a 'very Clare word.'

1. It's been a bit quiet with Fenella and Andy away. They're back now, however, and to ease them into the routine of married life, I watched Revenge of the Sith with them, and allowed them to give me dinner -- which was both jolly and delicious. 2. Winning a competition on Word Imperfect . This is a game where you have to guess the definition of a word -- the most creative wins. I defined termagant as... well you'll just have to go over and have a look. 3. The smell of a packet of special cocoa powder. Can't wait to try it -- but the milk's gone a bit solid today.

1. Walking into work, Oli remarked that he could feel the pollen in the air. There was a certain sweet smell in the car park, and the lime tree just outside was buzzing with flies and bees. In the evening walking across town, I passed a garden that wafted the scent of buddleja, and the park was full of lavender. 2. I've been joining in at Postcrossing and today I got a card from a lady in Japan. I asked for Three Beautiful Things and she has shared: The letter reached... The flower of the veranda bloomed. One problem of the work decreased. Each one is illustrated with a little picture, and the rest of the card contains the same poetic English. Plus there are two gorgeous stamps -- one of a Geisha and one of cartoon rabbit postman. 3. Through the magic of Freecyle , I now have a sliderule. There are some good people out there.

1. Lingering at a market stall while picking over a tray of jewellery described as 'the latest from Paris.' 2. Lying on the floor playing with toy cars. You can line them up and pretend it's a carpark for a festival -- use a CD as the main stage, and have the police cars patrolling up and down nicking troublemakers; or you can race them by giving them a good push and sending them off across the floor; or you can put them on a collision course with Thomas the Tank Engine. 3. Sitting in a conservatory when it's raining outside.

1. Francis’ French toast. French toast is what you get when there aren’t enough eggs for scrambled -- and scrambled comes when there aren’t enough for fried. Anyway, it’s brilliant French toast, and goes very well with some two per cent maple syrup. 2. Drinking instead of having a shower. First of all it was too rainy to get from the bar to the shower and then when I managed to get to the truck to pick up my stuff, I got involved in a conversation about life with Rob and Wayne and then it was supper time and after that it hardly seemed worth it. 3. Darren: Danish for Hubba Bubba is ‘Hoobaboobagum’ said really fast. 4. Iris: Finding easy-peel oranges. South Luanga National Park, to Mama Rula Camp, Chipata, Zambia

1. Ali T’s funny English. T stands for ‘tour guide’. He collects cockney rhyming slang from his groups and from the BBC World Service. He shared a few choice Zanzibar phrases including ‘cahmfortahble tahmes’, which is what the sultan of Zanzibar was hoping for when he visited his wives. 2. Anatto pods. Anatto is a red colouring. The seeds are juicy so you can squash them in your fingers producing a red goo that Ali T claims ‘Mijulie’ uses on her lips. I tried it and was swiftly told by Rose that the colour was unsuitable. This didn’t stop her from smearing it on her face and hands. 3. When mace -- the seaweedy membrane that surrounds a nutmeg -- is fresh it is a deep crimson. We saw two tiny little girls picking up windfalls in a nutmeg grove. 4. We lunched at the house of Ali T’s boss: his wife served us pilau beef and custard apple and lemon juice. Craig said of this last: ‘I wanted to put my face in it.’ Later in the bar he said chivalrously: ‘I’ve never seen so many beautiful women...

1. Drawing an evil pencil moustache and devil beard on PaulV -- he looked satanic. 2. Meeting another singleton who is really positive about the lifestyle. 3. Chatting to a couple of girls from South Shields with broad Sunderland accents. I felt nostalgic for Durham and my housemate Other Claire, who came from Sunderland; and for the boyfriend I had at uni, who used to laugh at my barths and glarsses and parths.

1. I look up at a tower. The clouds are scudding, and the brickwork seems to move. 2. Introducing Fenella to Beautiful South's haunting cover of You're the One that I Want and discovering that she loves it too. 3. To settle a supper argument about the four humours I get out Brewers Dictionary of Phrase and Fable. I can never remember the official name of black bile -- it's melancholy, which is a lovely word for a really useful emotion. I might spend some time being melancholic later in the year. Being cheerful all the time just can't be good for one.

1. My watering can seems un-necessarily complicated - the water must go into the handle, towards the back of the can, down across the bottom of the can and then out of the spout. I don't fully understand why it needs to do this, but I do like the gurgling noise it makes as you pour. 2. Cooked celeriac smells like the smoke from fireworks. 3. I got ten tubes of acryllic paint. I like the names of colours - cadmium yellow, raw umber, lemon yellow, pure rose, crimson, phthalo green, ochre, cerulean blue.