A humid atmosphere in West Yorkshire is Saturday evening’s meteorological companion. Significant downpours not only desperately required by the parched garden flora and fauna, but also to freshen baroscopic readings.
Before I proceed, I’d like to welcome the word baroscopic into the fold of words utilised on writesaidfred.org. It’s inaugural use has been a long time coming, which has been remiss of me to some extent. However in my defence, it’s not a word that’s easily slipped into the sentences of the topics I ordinarily select.
Admittedly, though, I did miss a trick when I failed to include it in a blog, written in August 2015, titled ‘Words That Rhyme With Microscopic’.
Hopefully, now I’ve used the word it will mitigate against my wife Karen regularly opining “It’s about time you used baroscopic within the narrative of your blogs, Gary. My friends are starting to gossip, questioning the depth of your vocabulary.”
“With all due respect, Karen, my lexilogical wherewithal is far broader than your friends. Apart from Geraldine who even knows what clandescoping means…. Although I suspect it’s a made up word, akin to dragonoid and cedricacious, which she’s also fond of airing.” I countered defensively.
“According to Geraldine, dragonoid and cedricacious do exist.” my spouse countered firmly.
“Do they chuff!” I opined in a manner that possibly backed up Karen’s friends reservations at my vocabulary’s lack of depth.
“Geraldine insists that dragonoid is an adjective describing the anxiety felt by people who believe dragons are out to harm them…….. She reckons that cedricacious is also an adjective describing illnesses that people called Cedric are particularly susceptible to.” Karen attempted to clarify.
“Nonsense!” I retorted sneeringly. Before adding “For a start off, dragon’s don’t exist! Also, I don’t for one moment believe there’s scientific proof that people named Cedric are biologically more prone to contract certain diseases than a human being of any other name.”
“What about your uncle Cedric? He died relatively young.” Karen felt moved to point out in a vain attempt to back her argument.
“Yes, but he was run over by a bus in Roundhay, not the victim of being unable to fight off an ailment as a consequence of being christened Cedric!” I blustered despairingly.
“How do you know it wasn’t his name that was the root cause of his misfortune?” my spouse continued.
“So are you advocating that because he was named Cedric the bus breaks weren’t as performant as they’d have been if he’d been named Arnold?” yours truly sought to clarify.
“Not necessarily….. I’m just saying you can’t prove it either way!” the missus argued, determined not relent with her idiosyncratic debating technique.
“Well I can’t prove that actress Margot Robbie won’t be able to climb Mount Everest in her flip-flops. But common sense dictates there’s no way that’s possible.” I tried arguing.
“But the burden of proof is with you. You can’t just write off a theory because you think it’s unlikely. You need to back your theory with facts.” Karen eloquently, but misguidedly argued.
“Ok then. So you’re saying anything, no matter how ridiculous, is possible unless proved otherwise?” I sought to clarify.
“I’m saying you’ve got to keep an open mind about whether individuals untrusting of dragons is a thing; along with whether you need to be extra cautious health wise if you’re moniker’s Cedric.” Karen continued to fight her corner.
“What about your great uncle Cedric…. He’s 86 and never ailed a day’s sickness in his life!” I pressed, believing I was at last beginning to usurp my wife in the debate. She paused for a moment before responding:-
“You’re right, he hadn’t….. Sadly, though, yesterday he got run over by a bus in Chester-Le-Street while being pursued by an imaginary dragon!”