Walking in the woods one day I was working on my novel. One of my characters was about to say, 'I have nothing but *** for you,' where *** is the noun from despise. You know like you have derision from deride?
So I'm wandering along saying, 'Despision? Despite? Despitution?' None of them worked, and you know what it's like when you begin to think intensely about a word the word itself starts to sound peculiar, as if it's a word you've made up. 'Despise? Is there such a word? Why does it sound so odd?'
I still haven't thought of the word; is there one?
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Husband and I have spent two days recently transforming a spare room into a nursery for a friend. It's not finished yet but it's getting there.
The fact that there wasn't a camera team filming our every move didn't stop me from doing a Changing Rooms style running commentary (in my head). Please take note of the stools, table and bookcase put together by ME! The ease with which the stool went together lulled me into a false sense of my ability as a handywoman; the bookcase was an altogether different matter. It involved a screwdriver for goodness sake. And a lot of muttering.
P.S. I say 'we did the work' when actually it was mostly Husband, who is truly a wonderful man allowing himself to be let in for these things by his wife. Even if he did go round touching up the paintwork where my bits weren't good enough and putting extra paste on the wallpaper because I hadn't done it well enough.