There are a lot of good kitchen names. A kid would love to be Mix Master.
I I I like Waffle Iron. Waffle seems like a terrific first name.
Spoon.
I wonder what I did with that list.....
I have this practical problem with not being able to find things I've worked on; especially papers. There are about ten full size record boxes in the main office room, and four more in a closet. All papers about architectural concepts, culture, kitchen names; whatever for sure. And if each mnemonic cue had its own folder, zowie.
Anyway. You can also add "lufa" or loofa to the soap and foam = sofa. Actually, our couch here is kind of soapy like. Foamy. Inflated. Puffy. Cow couch.
Ottoman
Divan
Chesterfield
Sofa
Couch
Barcalounger
I know there's more. Three hundred or so.
But I lost my couch names file....
Even as a kid, I remember noticing the odd names for sofas. (Which to me is a couch. Couch is the prime. Sofa is the very first wild and crazy and unnecessary deviation.) I remember where I was, and I was six or seven. (Nuts start early.) Because we moved from that house when I went to the second grade.
I was standing by the back fence (right by where that mud-dauber stung me), and thinking about all the couches; because my neighbors, thru the gate, had a couch.....outside! And they called it something different than I did. And I thought, these people are really ODD! I was annoyed, a little; and stressed. Confused.
I liked the kid ~ he was my age and we would go swimming ~ but this divan thing really upset me!
I remember this clear as day, however clear day is.
It was the first large scale quandary I had to work out on my own. I had to face. Really. No kidding. I kept thinking, "It's not a divan. It's not a divan. It's not a divan."
As a kid at that age you're always learning to call things things ~ Christmas tree "flocking" ~ it's been "flocked" ~ and so on ~ and I thought these people were, frankly, maybe over the edge. I wasn't sure if I could trust them. These divan people. Stirring things up. Trying to be obstinate. (Like when someone calls something a Chesterfield, you hussy.)
The Supreme Court in my head decided they had a right to call it a divan? But I didn't like it one bit. Really stuck in my craw. Whatever that is.
I've liberalized quite a bit since then.
But I think that stunted our friendship. (There was something peculiar about his mother, too. Anyway.)
We played whiffle ball with older kids in his front yard; my first intro to the annoying whiffle ball. The ball was fun, but the idea of slowing down a baseball really irked me. I was a big on baseball, and that seemed anathematical, to me. Like the Japanes could get that idea and destroy us. People could learn to use engineering and manufactuing techniques to destroy us. Make our stuff all into whiffle balls.
I might have been an uptight little bugger.
Or just confused by things. |
