I've been writing a few stories about a certain set of characters that have made themselves comfortably at home in my imagination. Too comfortable, if you ask me.
As I was re-reading one of these such stories I came across the word "plunked"which I generally only use to describe the act of unceremoniously placing a small child on a counter, table etc. I read it out loud and laughed because it sounds funny to my ears and then realized I was laughing because I thought there was no way this was a real word.
But Microsoft Office 2007 was not red-squiggling "plunked". It liked it. It even offered me other handy synonyms should I find myself unceremoniously placing fictitious children on precarious surfaces so often that I need another word for it.
But my Oxford paperback begs to differ on the "plunk" situation.
My Canadian Oxford Paperback says it is a word, but they mention nothing of children.
Okay literary world, what is it? Is it a word or not?
--Siobhan, why are you concerning yourself with the legitimacy of this word?-- you may be wondering.
I'm waiting for my Wonderbread to thaw so that I can make a satisfactory grilled-cheese and time needed to be killed. I might as well quander about words.
NOBODY thinksquander is a real word. Nobody. Except me. And I love it. Like pondering a quandary= to quander.
This year, for the first time, Cameron and I didn't go home to our respective parents' houses for Thanksgiving. Instead we opted out of the 4 hour busrides there and back and decided to cook a turkey and mashed potatoes and broccoli and stuffing ourselves.
Ideally, dinner would have been delicious and I would have a hilarious story to tell you about something that went awry while dinner prep happened.
Dinner was delicious.
Nothing went awry.
Sooo... success and disappointment. But more success.