Adopting words: senticous

Now, this is really a great word if you’re looking for the perfect word to describe a cat, or a cactus, or a briar patch, or someone who’s rather harsh. The word is senticous — what does it mean? Read below. 

senticous

adj. 1657

: prickly, thorny

He pricked himself on a senticous bush as he searched about for his golf ball.

The Phrontistery says this word was in use for one year — 1657.  I can’t find much else on it. 

I’ve used this word many times already — mainly to describe my mood. It works perfectly. Give it a try!

show me your words

So now that my weekly word-blogging has begun, perhaps some of you would like to start using those words? In a poem perhaps?

You could speak of the bimarian quality of Canada (that word is next week, folks) or what is vanmost on your mind when you think of this Great White North. You could comment on the senticous nature of some of Canada’s native plants, or the world’s amandation of Canada’s achievements. 

I’m talking about, of course, my pet project Poems for Obama. The end is nigh — it’s time to show me your words, Canada!

We need your poems! The President is coming to Canada on the 19th of February, so we want to get cracking so we maybe have something to show him? Yes?

Send me your poems! Well, send them to my mom. Her email’s on the Poems for Obama blog. 

And I will see you at…um…the beach?

The Smell of Hope in the Morning

We’ve come to the end of an era, my friends. Not a particularly lovely era. A dark age, to be precise. We’ve come through the night and a new day has dawned, bright and shining (and misty in Nanaimo) — a new day, and we can have hope again, because change has come. 

He’s human, of course. We all are. I do not think we should worship the man. I think we should be grateful for what he’s brought us — hope — and for the chance we have to get things fixed. I think we as Canadians should be grateful there is a leader in charge of our neighbor to the south who will actually give a rat’s ass about what goes on in Canada, what matters to Canadians, and the relationship between our countries, which has become strained of late. 

I think Obama cares. But I think we have to take the initiative to let him know. I think we need to take the first step, the step that says “Dear Obama — we are Canadian, and this is what matters to us — this is what being Canadian is.”  CBC has done this with Obama’s Playlist — a collection of 49 songs from north of the 49th parallel that demonstrate Canuckitude. And now Kaimana Wolff, inspired by CBC’s project, has started Poems for Obama, a drive to collect 49 Canadian poems to send to the 44th president as an, albeit late, inaguaration present. 

I’m submitting my poem transit stories, and Kaimana is submitting some poems as well. We already have submissions from poets such as Susan Musgrave — you don’t need to be published or famous to submit. Just Canadian, or close enough to make no nevermind (living in Canada as a Canadian is more important that a piece of paper declaring your citizenship). We want poems that demonstrate what being Canadian is — poems with real Canadian content. 

We’re sure you can do this, Canada. Come on — let your light shine. 

-Katje
who is partying like there’s no tomorrow

Happy New Year! (First Post of 2009)

And, because I hate myself, I’m doing [info]getyourwordsout
  this year. I’m pledging 200K words. That’s just under 17K a month. Can I do it? Oh yes. I think I can.  

By which I mean I MUST BE FRIGGIN INSANE. 

Actually, though, when I looked over my word count goals that I’d set for this year ANYway, I realized it added up to 200K exactly. Eerie. And proof that I’m meant to do this, obviously. 

Thanks to [info]dameboudicca

  for letting me know about it just in time to join. ^_^ 

Updated my profile page and the website; now all the word count reports from 07/08 are on my site and my profile is less cluttered. 

I’m trying like heck to stay up till midnight but I’m sooooo.tireeeeeeeeed.

Sigh. Only an hour and ten minutes. (And yes, I know I dated this post as Jan. 1st I’M CHEATING LEAVE ME ALONE.)

No more Pepsi late at night. Makes me weird. 

-Katje