Susie Dent

Word of the day is ‘librocubicularist’: one who loves nothing better than reading in bed.

(Not easy to say, but I’m glad to know it exists).

Word of this morning is ‘procaffeinate’: to put everything on hold until you’ve had sufficient amounts of coffee.

My word of the day (and personal recommendation) is ‘snerdling’ (18th century): nestling cosily beneath the covers and holding off the day a little longer.

Morning.

Word of the Day is ‘ingordigiousness’ (18th century): extreme greed at the expense of principles.

Word of the Day, should you need it, is ‘latibulate’, a 17th-century verb meaning to find a corner somewhere and hide in it.

Word of the day is a favourite, from old Scots.

To ‘tartle’ is to hesitate while introducing someone because you have completely forgotten their name.

Word of the day is ‘quiddler’ (19th century): one who pays great attention to trivial matters as a way of avoiding the important ones.

Word of the Day is ‘uhtcearu’ [ucht-kay-aru, with the 'ch' as in the Scottish ‘loch']:

Old English for ‘the sorrow before dawn', when you lie awake in the darkness and worries crowd your mind.

Word of the Day is a true favourite, as some of you will know.

Apricity (17th century) is the warmth of the sun on a winter’s day.

It’s the time of year for mentioning one of my favourite ‘untranslatables’.

‘Poronkusema’, in Finnish, once denoted a distance of around 7.5km, which is roughly how long a reindeer can last before needing to urinate. ‘Poronkusema’ means ‘reindeer pee’.

Word of the Day is ‘bayard’ (16th century): one who has the supreme self-confidence of ignorance.

Word of the Day is one I keep posting at the end of the year, hoping its time will come.

‘Respair’, from the 16th century, is fresh hope, and a recovery from despair.

Here’s to a few drops of respair in 2025.

Word of the day is ‘sequaciousness’ (16th century): the slavish and reckless following of another person in matters of thought or opinion.

Word of the day is ‘catch-fart’ (17th century: an obsequious individual who will always follow the political wind.

Word of the day is ‘huff-snuff’ (16th century): a hectoring bully or braggart.

Word of the Day is ‘gwenders’, from old Cornish dialect: a disagreeable tingling in the extremities (or no sensation at all) due to extreme cold.

Word of the day is ‘apanthropy’ (18th century): a dislike of company and the desire to be left alone.

Word of day is ‘unasinous’ (17th century): united in stupidity.

A riff on ‘unanimous’: which comes from the Latin for ‘one mind’. ‘Unasinous’ means ‘one ass’.

Word of the Day is ‘quockerwodger’ (19th century): a puppet individual whose strings are pulled entirely by someone else.

Word of the day is most definitely ‘hurkle-durkling’ (19th-century Scots): to linger in bed long after it’s time to get up.

Word of the day is ‘lickspittle’ (17th century): a person who fawns upon someone in power for personal gain.

Word of the day is ‘forswunk’ (13th century): exhausted by work.

I like to add ‘foreswunk’, exhausted before you even begin.

Etymology of the day: before a tapering piece of hanging ice was called an ‘icicle’ it was an ‘ickle’. In the Middle Ages people decided to add ‘ice’ for extra oomph and (tautologically) called it an ‘ice ickle’, until the two words eventually blended together.

Word of the day, though I’m sure no one will need it, is ‘eye servant’ (16th century): an individual who only pays attention or works hard when the boss is looking.