Do you ever use the same wrong word instead of the word that you should use? Two of my friends often made that mistake and caused problems for themselves.
One of them was a teacher colleague of mine. He was from Langho in Lancashire and was a staunch and passionate supporter of Blackburn Rovers. When he came to teach at Fortismere School in North London, he learnt very quickly that to admit to supporting any team other than Tottenham Hotspur was a big mistake. Nonetheless, he was so used to saying “Blackburn” in any conversation about football and it was so embedded in his consciousness, that he couldn’t stop doing it.
He told me of a lesson that deviated from his aims and degenerated into chaos because of a fierce argument that arose due to his carelessness when answering a question.
“Sir, do you think we’ll win on Saturday?”
“Should do. Leicester have got a terrible away record.”
“Eh? What are you on about? it’s us who’s away - at Chelsea.”
The other friend kept getting into trouble using the wrong word because he often called his second wife by his first wife’s name. Sadly, for him there’s not much that can be done to put that right.
There must be a cause but I have no idea why it is that there are two words that I keep mixing up.
Caroline and her friend, Denise, are walking the Greensand Ridge that runs through Buckinghamshire, Bedfordshire and Cambridge, stage by stage, over a number of Saturdays. It’s a total distance of more than 40 miles. I would join them but I have a sore toe and I’m really very disappointed indeed and devastated that I can’t join them.
Stage one is the nine miles from the southern end of the ridge, northeast to Woburn. One Saturday morning at 9:30, they set off. As I left the house to go shopping an hour later, I bumped into Patrick, our neighbour who asked after Caroline.
“She and her friend are doing the first stage of the Greensand Ridge walk stage from High Wycombe to Woburn,” I told him and Patrick was very impressed.
Last Friday, I left home to get a haircut. I’ve told you before about Lena who is Romanian and who was recommended to me during the Covid lockdown. Even though it’s a 32 mile round trip, I continue to support her through a sense of loyalty.
I missed the exit from one of Milton Keynes’ many roundabouts and prepared to do a U-turn. However, when I saw that the traffic on the other side of the road was stationary because of roadworks, I pulled over to look at the car’s satnav to see if there is an alternative route. There is and as I don’t know Lena’s full address, I entered “High Wycombe” thinking I would recognise the route once I was close.
After driving for another half an hour, I was wishing that I had braved the log jam back at the roundabout where I had made the original mistake. I was passing through village after village that I had never seen before.
When I reached the town centre, I got out and asked a few people the way to Grovebury Park. None of them had heard of it.
When I was young, about fifteen or sixteen years old, I had an almost uncanny sense of direction and distance. It was so good that on family trips in the car, my Dad would never bother with a map but trust me instead. I never remember being wrong.
I decided to see if I still possess those skills and drove in the direction that felt was right. It soon became apparent that I don’t.
I was in an electric Mini and was shocked to see that the range had dropped to 19 miles. I stopped again and put “Home” into the satnav see how far away I was. 6 miles!
I had driven for over an hour and was only 6 miles from where I had set off. Then, I saw a road sign which read, “Milton Keynes 10 miles, Leighton Buzzard 4 miles.”
Leighton Buzzard! That’s where Lena works - not High Wycombe, the town I put into the satnav - you stupid old fool.
Those two towns are 30 miles apart and so why does it keep happening? Why do I keep thinking of High Wycombe when it should be Leighton Buzzard? What should have been a bit of a jaunt, ended up with me driving 77 miles in more than two hours.
I suppose that I’d better tell Patrick that after all, Caroline didn’t walk the 36 miles from High Wycombe to Woburn in 4 hours.
Nine miles from Leighton Buzzard to Woburn is a fairly respectable trek though.
Ramble:
Here are a couple of thoughts I’ve had for the first time today. Do you know the answer to either query?
1. What is the origin of the meaning of the word “after” in the sentence, “I bumped into Patrick, our neighbour who asked after Caroline.”
2. Why is a person who runs a restaurant known as a “restaurateur” and not a “restauranteur” with an ‘n’.
