Learn at your peril....

The Word of the Day for October 23 was:

argentiferous \ar-jun-TIFF-uh-rus\ adjective

: containing silver

Example sentence:
The mineral galena, which is common in the Mississippi River Valley, is often argentiferous and so is sometimes mined for silver as well as for lead.

See a map of "argentiferous" in the Visual Thesaurus.

Did you know?
If you learned basic chemistry, you might recall that the symbol for silver, "Ag," reflects the Latin name for the element, “argentum.” That Latin term puts the luster in "argentiferous" and is also an ancestor of "argent," a word that was once used to refer to the metal silver and now means “the heraldic color silver or white.” The country of Argentina owes its name to “argentum,” as well.

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When I saw this Word of the Day yesterday, I knew exactly what it meant---partly because I studied Latin, and I speak French and partly because I am, by nature and nurture, an argentiferous person. And by "nurture", I guess I mean self-nurture.

This is the part where I confess to owning more silver jewellery than is reasonable for a woman of my means and stature. I don't remember specifically deciding this, but I did make a point of collecting about 5 silver bangles when my children were small, so that the kids would have an aural memory of me. I was deliberate about that, and entirely undeliberate as , mindlessly, I gathered as many as 50 silver bangles. Silver is soft and there would always be at least one new one and another so thin or so misshapen, it had to go.

Those bangles were a kind of rebellious acquisition for me---all the books on becoming successful on the job warned against noisy or ostentatious jewellery---mine was both. The nuns who taught me in high school were very genteel people who believed that the extent of a woman's jewellery should be a fine watch, a wedding ring and the pearls Daddy gave you for your confirmation.

Jewellery that talks (and by now, I had added ankle bracelets with 100 silver bells) is one of those things that keeps you from sitting alone on the train or propped on a bar with a book. People would always feel it was OK to ask about them---they were so definitely there. I wore them in the shower, to bed and I stopped some activities because they would have gotten in the way. I wore them when I danced in my arm-waving, hippy-dippy fashion and when I took my "Swimming for the terminally afraid" lessons.

A person with 50 silver bangles on one arm obviously needs silver rings. For balance. I got some---plain, intricate, small, large, for all the fingers, and some of the toes, and some, happily came with stones inlaid.

Somehow, silver earrings became de rigeur, and in my efficient yet gluttonous way, I managed to find them in a stunning variety. It's obvious that I incorporated necklaces and pendants, but sort of thoughtlessly, like the way a car-owner stops every so often for gas.

Being a sensitive person, and married to a person who thinks two of anything is one too many, unless it holds music, or is chocolate, I began to have some qualms about my ostentatious ways, and briefly, tried to go without my silver. I felt the way John Travolta must have when they took the white suit, how Liz Taylor must have reacted to putting the Kohinoor diamond in the wall safe, the shock Willie Nelson must have suffered when someone cut off his braids. To be me, I apparently had to be argentiferous.

When I complained to my doctor about arthritis, he rather sardonically said I could cut the pain in half if I stopped adorning myself with heavy metal. No stopping was allowed, but I did cut back. 30 seemed like a nice round relatively painless number.

About 8 years ago, our house was broken into and all the silver I wasn't wearing that day disappeared along with most of our CDs and DVDs and everything electronic, larger than a bread box or in some way shiny. "Aha!" I said, "out of the bad comes some good---I can rid myself of this argentiferous habit." Then I said (but not out loud) "I wonder what I'll get in the way of insurance money...." As it turns out, we took all our insurance money to a Ceramic Tile store and beautified our kitchen, halls and bathrooms.

Still, miraculously, I continued to be silver-laden. I was earning good money and drinking wine mostly at home, so maybe it wasn't so miraculous. There were certain expectations of me that had to be met---people could find me in a crowd, my granddaughters always had something to teethe on, I was easy to buy gifts for, everyone can blame me for those swirly marks I make in the wood when I'm waxing it.....

So, isn't it good to know the Word of the Day for yesterday?