Don't exturpurate on me
I witnessed the birth of a new word last night. In a lively discussion with friends ‘exturpuration’ came into play, which if I understood it correctly means something like a vomit of verbiage. Who I wonder might this word apply to?
Talking of words, the Guardian has yet again failed to print one of my letters, gently upbraiding them – here in February – for not calling winter winter. An article about strawberries being grown now in Wales could only refer to this week’s ‘cold snap.’ I suspect an increasing number of people are surprised these days when there’s a frost. Talk of global warming has led to some unjustified expectations. Teenagers now expect to go clubbing in January in clothes designed for summer. I am appointing myself Director-General of the Society for the Preservation of the Seasons. I am pleased, in that capacity that today’s Guardian did use the ‘w’ word in a story about next week’s forecast suggesting that it would be colder in the UK than at the North Pole. That is a seriously worrying story, but for now I’ll stop exturpurating on the subject except to say that winter officially ends next Thursday. After then it will be OK to use the term ‘cold snap.’
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