13 August 2009

Contemplating Grandparental Nomenclature

This is actually a blog entry that I've been planning to write for months. I just keep not getting around to it.

As a writer, the names I choose for my characters and what my characters call each other is very important to the suspension of disbelief. Have you ever read a book and thought that a name just didn't quite fit? What about what they called the grandparents?

For names themselves, I am not having much trouble. But many of my characters come from families with strong religious backgrounds, so biblical names are an easy choice for first names. For last names, I am relying on historical research into early settlers of the area from which the families come that have that religious background (church and cemetary records usually). In that way, I can ensure that anyone that is familiar with that area and those cultures will not find the names unusual.

But then I have the issue of what my narrator, who is also my protagonist, calls her grandmother. I don't think I can effectively Google what people in that area and with that background called grandparents.

So I myself wondering what the factors are that influence the selection of grandparental nomenclature. Here are some of the things I can think of.

  • Education and literacy level of the family.
  • Family tradition.
  • Cultural background.
  • Childhood mispronunciation.
  • Grandparental attitudes towards being a grandparent.
  • What other children in the family are calling the person.
Here in Denmark, the selection is simple. Are you the mother's mother or the father's mother?

The maternal grandmother is pretty much always called "mormor." The paternal grandmother is "farmor." The maternal grandfather is "morfar." The paternal grandfather is "farfar."

When you get into mixed families with stepgrandparents, "bedstemor" and "bedstefar" are often used. The generic word for grandparents is "bedsteforældre."

What I find impressive is that no one, especially the children, find it confusing that one cousin calls the person one thing and another cousin calls the person something else. That always seemed very complicated to me.

Then we have the factor of distinguishing between the grandparents on both sides. I called both my grandmothers grandmom and both my grandfathers granddaddy. But I know that at least one of my brother's families has insisted that my parents and the child's mother's parents have different nicknames. So which way will my character's family deal with this issue?

The sheer number of options for naming grandparents in English is simply overwhelming.

Grandmother Names
  • Grandmother
  • Grandmom
  • Grandma
  • Gramma
  • Gran
  • Gram
  • Mommom
  • Nana
  • Granny
  • Grammy
Grandfather Names
  • Grandfather
  • Granddad
  • Granddaddy
  • Grandpa
  • Grampa
  • Gramps
  • Poppop
  • Papa
I am sure that there are more I haven't thought of.

In some of these cases, the word may be combined with a first or last name to identify the specific person.

Although this seems like a minor issue when writing a book, it feels important to me. It would help define my character and her background.

For example, if you hear someone calling their parents ma and pa, the thought would usually be that either the family is extremely old-fashioned or it is not that highly educated. My mother always calls her mother "Mother," which throws another wrench into it all.

I tried googling for relevant linguistical research, but found the only, a Washington Times reporter who was contemplating the same thing in his blog. That didn't help much.

Anyone have any ideas?

12 August 2009

Oh, What a Beautiful Morning

Oh, what a beautiful day. Oh, what a beautiful morning. Everything is going... okay.

Yes, I know that's not the proper words to the song but the proper words do not fit. But at least I'm feeling better today.

If you've been following my tweets, you know that I was down much of yesterday with a really bad migraine. DH had been up overnight because he couldn't sleep. He had gone out to the computer to check on the status of an auction on eBay. We were bidding on a new headstall for Quintas, because the pretty one that supposed to be hers I've been using on Ria because it has the bosal on. But that bosal and headstall match each other. The bosal is red and headstall has red details. They should, after all, both were bought for the same horse. What we didn't realize was that Ria would need one because she has stallion teeth.

To get back to the point, DH came back to bed after winning the auction. He woke me up because apparently I was whining, moaning, screaming, something like that in my sleep. So he asked me what was wrong, which was a migraine. Sweetheart that he is, he brought me a headache pill.

He brought me another one along with my regular painkiller before he left for work in the morning. When I first got up, my head wasn't too bad, but my hands were killing me. Sometime in the afternoon, my headache came back with a vengeance.

I took a pill and went to bed a little before three. Around quarter after, I had to run to the bathroom. I was sick. After a little while I went back to bed with my favorite bucket.

The noise was also bothering me of the traffic on the road. That I could fix with earplugs. I couldn't do anything about the blinking lights in my eyes because they were there when my eyes were closed and covered.

I guess I finally fell asleep because I don't remember anything else until DH got home. Even that I didn't hear at first because of earplugs.

When I told him about the squash situation he was mad. The first half of the squash situation is good. I put out 4 squash in the morning and by mid day two of those have been replaced by 10 kroner. When I went out to check later in the afternoon, the third was missing, but no money. I am still little bit optimistic that the person just didn't have change, so after making sure I had one in the garden for dinner tonight, I put the last one back out this morning.

Ria eats too much. She is the horse of our herd that needs the least to eat. Unfortunately, Daisy is still on the thin side. Because of an extreme lack of grass, we had to give the horses a big bale of hay. Since she's a bit of a pig, Ria stands there eating all day. Last time we were in a horse supply place, we bought her a grazing muzzle. So when DH got home last night I helped her put that on her. She handled it quite well.

So, getting back to the point of this morning, I woke up pretty much okay. My head's not too bad, but it's not great. I let the girls out right away and got a load of laundry started. After I had my glass of juice, I put my steel-toed boots on to go outside. I needed to put grazing muzzle back on Ria.

I did that without problem. However, Tracy was rubbing her head quite insistently on my rear end. I decided her fly mask was bothering her. I pulled off to find that there was a lot of hay under it and it was pretty dirty. The flies didn't seem bad, because there's a nice breeze outside. So I decided to take all the fly masks off to wash them. I took hers and Ria's and both seem relieved. Not long after I took Daisy's, she asked for it back. So Daisy is back in her fly mask.

Then I went to the garden to check on the squash. We had a new zucchini, which I need for making an omelet for dinner tonight. Oddly enough, I can't find the yellow roundish one that I had taken a picture of before. I hope it's just hiding in the leaves somewhere. The pumpkin on the giant pumpkin plant is now larger than a cantaloupe. There are also pumpkins on the other giant pumpkin plant. I'm very happy about that.

Since I have squash I need for dinner, I put the basket back out the road side. But if another one gets stolen I may have to give up this idea. I'm still hoping the person will come and leave money. Maybe they just didn't have change on them. If I knew it was someone that was starving and couldn't afford vegetables I be quite happy to give them my squash. DH thinks it's just the way people are -- that they suck.

So after that I came in with the fly masks, I got out the old dishpan and got them soak in the sink. Then I put Molly to work getting my boots off. I tried clicking and treating more often in the hopes that she would be quieter. It did seem to help a little bit, but it also annoyed her that I kept interrupting her work. However, she did her move my socks almost silently, and I clicked three times in the process.

I'm not sure how many times now change the water on the fly masks, but it seems to be getting cleaned out.

And while writing this my tea steeped (keemun with ginger). So now I'm going to have breakfast.