When the job title luthier jumped out at me, I traveled down an etymology rabbit hole to learn more about this ancient word.

An essay penned by a cynophobic writer about cynophiles brought me to the interesting word ailurophile, so this post is going to the cats and dogs.

Credit for this Spectacular Vernacular goes to the great Ian Fleming who described his literary contributions as opuscula.

Polysyndeton and Asyndeton—Two words for the price of one this week. Isn’t that exciting and fun and interesting and educational?

My use of hobnob in a conversation earlier this week left me wondering where the word comes from, so let me share what I found.

A horrid task, the annual income tax filing, looms over me as I struggle to comprehend governmental explanations filled with bafflegab.

Remember back in your school days when you opened a text book to discover the previous owner scribbled some marginalia?

Ever wonder what the reproductive process of worms has in common with complex political alliances? Fissiparous is the answer.

Why would I decide on such a simple word for this week’s Spectacular Vernacular? It’s the etymology that caught my attention.

Watching Asheville city leaders explain how 40,000 citizens can go without water for days raised my curiosity on the word feckless.

Writer Sylvia Wright loved the character of Lady Mondegreen so much that she refused to accept she never existed.

Nothing makes holiday gatherings better than useless knowledge to share over drinks, like what exactly is the nog in eggnog.