noun
a construction made of whatever materials are at hand; something created from a variety of available things.
The noun bricolage in French means “do it yourself,” formed from the verb bricoler “to do odd jobs, do small chores; make improvised repairs,” from Middle French bricoler “to zigzag, bounce off,” ultimately a derivative of the Old French noun bricole “a trifle.” The French suffix –age, completely naturalized in English –age, as in carriage, marriage, passage, voyage, comes from –āticum, a noun suffix from the neuter of the Latin adjective suffix –āticus. Bricolage entered English in the second half of the 20th century.
Indeed, if we scratch beneath the surface, English is a veritable bricolage of these ‘borrowed’ words.
So, for now, with my basket in one hand and my daughter’s little palm in the other, we’ll continue to walk the world in search of people, spaces and moments that move our soul and gather them into a living piece of art, a bricolage of memories called home.
adjective
of, relating to, or resembling a rabbit or hare.
Leporine, “pertaining to or resembling a rabbit or hare,” a technical term in zoology, comes straight from the Latin adjective leporīnus, a derivative of the noun lepus (inflectional stem lepor-) “hare.” The etymology of lepus is obscure, but it may be related to Greek dialect léporis (Sicily) and lebērís (Marseille). Leporine entered English in the mid-17th century.
Of course, the Easter Bunny isn’t our only leporine hero. There is a general fascination with hares, bunnies, and rabbits in children’s literature and other aspects of popular and folk culture around the world.
His face looked naked, his teeth big and leporine.
noun
a hen's egg used for food.
Cackleberry, “an egg, a hen’s egg,” is a piece of facetious American slang. The word is a compound of the verb cackle “to utter a shrill, broken cry such as a hen makes” and the common noun berry “small fruit without a pit,” also used often in compounds such as strawberry or gooseberry.
“Cackleberries,” said Gately, picking up one of the eggs and examining it as though it were an emerald. “A genuine cackleberry.”
Klock had played swell ball all week, scampering around station one like a hare—the March variety, of course—but he wasn’t hitting hard enough to imperil the shell of a cackleberry.