Perhaps you would like to know what my blog name means. Not much, really. My favorite number is 19. "Plunkett" may cause more confusion. I refer here not to the nineteenth-century Tammany Hall politico, George Washington Plunkitt:
I do appreciate that he was named this, but I'm not really into the nineteenth century. Truly wacky times.
No, I refer to "plunketts" (note different spelling), a name I came up with as a kid to describe the individual teardrops of pulp within citrus fruits. I liked to eat grapefruit one plunkett at a time.
Where the diagram above says "juice sac," substitute "plunkett."
Allow me to be the first to drop you a celebratory "Welcome to the blogosphere!" I'm thrilled to see you here. As you can see I blog under a pseudo-pseudonym (to protect the innocent), but I know you know where to find me...!
ReplyDeleteA few pink plunketts sound good right about now. Unfortunately we are carless and a tofurky and cheese sandwich will have to suffice. Not an ideal substitute!
ReplyDeleteI hearing about micro-dialect words--words that make sense only within a family, or a limited circle of acquaintances. When they were first married, my father drove my mother crazy asking her to pick up "muffets" the next time she went grocery shopping. Finally she learned that this was his name for Shredded Wheat. Being a man of his generation, he never went to the grocery store; probably never even got the box out of the cupboard (back on the farm, making breakfast was -- like every kitchen procedure -- women's work). In any event, he didn't know from "Shredded Wheat." As far as he was concerned, it was "muffets"-- just like Mom used to make.
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