Word of the day was never been something I got into. As a small child my vocab was so far above my peers that the teachers insisted I go to speech therapy – I still dont see the logic of that one.
But lately I have been feeling like it would benefit my writing to continue expanding my vocab. But I never remember words just by looking them up. So I have decided to try something new.

I started this post with just a dry list of words and their definitions, before realising how stupid I was being. I might not be able to use these words in conversation but I could certainly use the principle. A vignette or scene using my words of the week.

A putsch

John, prothonotary to the Lord Mayor of New Canada, sat at his desk watching the carriage clock on the mantle tick down the end of the hour. On the blotter before him sat the collation, a thick sheaf of papers he had assembled for the Mayor’s collation due to start in a few minutes. He watched the clock tick by another minute. Once the full tesseradecade had assembled in the chambers he could slip off for a quick collation, that would settle his growling stomach (collation, really does have all 3 meanings).

Finally, the clock chimed the hour, like a votive offering to the gods of time and futility. John rose from his seat, and gathering his paperwork, padded quietly up the endless stairs to the aerie, where the Mayor liked best to have his meetings, since it meant his ministers arriving out of breath and crimson-faced. John took a moment before entering the chamber to catch his own breath, observing an eagle eyrie in a large tree that was almost level with the windows of the chamber. The fledglings, he noted had started to grow out their flight feathers (eyrie and aerie are alternative spellings of the same word).

The walls of the meeting chamber had been tesseraiced with images of harlequins (people, as well as ducks and butterflies), John wondered if it was one of the mayor’s subtle slights against his council. The light feature was a tesseract (blue glow is optional), hanging like a masonry block over the great table and casting a sickly yellow glow over the chamber. The light caught the edges of individual tessera so that the mosaic glinted with a thousand sharp points of light.

The mayor was was taking his afternoon medication, which had to be administered intranasally (I first saw this word in an article about aphrodisiacs – imagine my confusion), he looked up, wiping the grey powder from his upper lip with a charcoal coloured handkerchief (had to look up the spelling of this last word).
“Ah, John, good. What do I need to know?”
“Sir, there has been a putsch in the southern territories.”
“Again? This is becoming positively quotidian.”
“Perhaps, sir, although I fear if we do nothing about it, it may become literally quotidian.”
“Granted. How did this come about this time?”
“Major Myers had his men come across the Brassica fields (a favourite of Terry Pratchett), destroyed the entire years crops. So we can probably expect a request for assistance in a few months by the nascent government.”
The Mayor grunted. He was holding his lucky charm, a domino, in his hand. Absently running his thumb over the pips as if counting them (also on playing cards).
“There is a further problem, sir.”
“You mean bigger than a coup on our southern border?”
“Related. Reports suggest the use of torture against the previous government.”

The mayor jolted. It set his medallion swinging around his neck, the carbuncle shone like spilled blood as it caught the light. The carbuncle on the mayor’s neck, on the other hand, which the medication was supposed to be bringing down, had a fresh scab on it, suggesting the mayor (or more probably his wife) had been picking at the sore again.

John refocused himself with a shake. “My informants tell me that Myers’ men have been using gimlets to trepan into people’s skulls. They say the work is very skillfully done, with perfect round plugs being taken out, before the victim dies. I am told that Myers has been keeping them in custom-made reliquaries in the cathedral.

The mayor coughed. “It hardly matters, the skill level of the torture!”
“No, sir, of course not.”
The mayor stared gimlet-eyed at John for a long time. “Very good John. I don’t think it necessary to mention these details to the council, we don’t want a long peregrination from the planned discussion.”
“No, sir.” John took a deep breath. “But, sir? I wanted to ask, I have a cousin who was on a prolonged peregrination in Edmoniton…” he trailed off.
“Ah, I see. Yes I am sure we can make a plan for his extraction.”

John breathed a sigh of relief. He had promised his mother he would try, even if Clark was an idiot with a over fondness for Edmoniton brandy.
“And while you are organising that,” the mayor continued, making John’s heart stutter against his ribs. “Perhaps you will see what can be done about arranging a little peregrination for Major Myers, preferably off a cliff.” (another word that has 3 not entirely different meanings)

Oh, the cunning old fox, thought John. “I will see what I can manage sir, although cliffs can make confirmation a problem. But, I am sure my agents will be able to find a suitable destination.”
The mayor smiled like a old crocodile. “Good, man. Very well, you might as well let the harlequinade in.”

John complied, smiling to himself.

Definitions

Harlequin & Harlequinade
Pantomine-like comedy featuring harlequins, aka clown in colourful checkered clothes. Also a painfully bright shade of green. Also a species of duck and genera of butterfly.

Collation
Like collating, or a conference, a light meal (how it was used in the historical fiction book I was reading.)

Eyrie & aerie
This should be familiar to GoT fans. Actually means the nest of a bird of prey or high remote and commanding place. The words are just alternate spellings (because English is weird).

Tesseraic, Tesseradecade, Tesseractic & Tessera
I started with tessera, which was actually defined in the book but the resemblance to the blue box in the movie sparked my interest and then the predictive text showed a whole bunch of similar words so down the rabbit-hole we fell.
Tessera – small square used for mosaic (in the book it specifically had gold leaf between glass sheets.
Tesseraic – done in mosaic.
Tesseractic – relating to tesseract a four-dimensional space (so its a real word for a box or cube).
Tesseradecade – a group of fourteen.

Votive
Given in fulfilment of a vow (dedication). Like votive candles in a church.

Putsch
A coup

Intranasal
Medication taken through the nose.

Nascent
Emerging or coming into existence

Quotidian
Happening daily like circadian or diurnal, or like commonplace

Reliquary
A container to hold religious relics – like bits of saints

Peregrination
A journey or pilgrimage. Can also be used for when a person strays from their point (like digression). Or living abroad temporarily (like sojourning).

Gimlet
Pratchett uses this for a hard stare. Actually means screw-tipped tool for boring holes. Good word use

Carbuncle
I knew this as a word for an abscess or sore (of the oozing variety). I didn’t realise it also referred to a dark red precious stone (like a garnet in cabochon cut)

Brassica
A genus of plants including cabbage, mustard and rapes. Pratchett uses it to describe the flat lands of Sto-Lat

Trepan & Trepanning
This I did know but had forgotten. It makes a plot point in Norther Lights – in that context it was boring holes in peoples skulls. More generally its when you make a hole by grooving the outline and then removing the plug.
It is also a tool for boring through rock. Or to remove a circular section of the skull. Gruesome

Prothonotary
A clerk, often used in church or court settings

Pips
The symbols on playing cards and the dots on dominoes.