Word-Wednesday for January 28, 2026

And here is the Wannaskan Almanac with Word-Wednesday for January 28, 2026, the fourth Wednesday of the year, the sixth Wednesday of winter, the fourth Wednesday of January, and the twenty-eighth day of the year, with three-hundred thirty-seven days remaining.

Wannaska Phenology Update for January 28, 2026
European Starling
The common starling, Sturnus vulgaris, also known simply as the starling in Great Britain and Ireland, and as the European starling in Wannaska and the rest of North America, is a medium-sized passerine bird in the starling family, Sturnidae, that immigrated with other of our fellow Americans from across the pond. The Anishinaabe have no word for this bird. Their legs are pink and their bills are black in winter and yellow in summer - just now starting to change. Its gift for mimicry has been noted in literature including the Mabinogion and the works of Pliny the Elder and William Shakespeare. One of their older names is Stare, which  William Butler Yeats' poem "The Stare's Nest by My Window". Each bird has its own repertoire with more proficient birds having a range of up to 35 variable song types and as many as 14 types of clicks.

January 28 Fickle Pickle Wednesday Menu Special: Potato Dumpling


January 28 Nordhem Wednesday Lunch: Updated daily, occasionally.


Earth/Moon Almanac for January 28, 2026
Sunrise: 7:59am; Sunset: 5:14pm; 2 minutes, 51 seconds more daylight today
Moonrise: 12:08pm; Moonset: 4:34am, waxing gibbous, 72% illuminated.


Temperature Almanac for January 28, 2026
                Average            Record              Today
High             14                     39                     -1
Low              -7                    -48                   -13

A Birthday Present
by Sylvia Plath
 

What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful?
It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it edges?

I am sure it is unique, I am sure it is what I want.
When I am quiet at my cooking I feel it looking, I feel it thinking

'Is this the one I am too appear for,
Is this the elect one, the one with black eye-pits and a scar?

Measuring the flour, cutting off the surplus,
Adhering to rules, to rules, to rules.

Is this the one for the annunciation?
My god, what a laugh!'

But it shimmers, it does not stop, and I think it wants me.
I would not mind if it were bones, or a pearl button.

I do not want much of a present, anyway, this year.
After all I am alive only by accident.

I would have killed myself gladly that time any possible way.
Now there are these veils, shimmering like curtains,

The diaphanous satins of a January window
White as babies' bedding and glittering with dead breath. O ivory!

It must be a tusk there, a ghost column.
Can you not see I do not mind what it is.

Can you not give it to me?
Do not be ashamed--I do not mind if it is small.

Do not be mean, I am ready for enormity.
Let us sit down to it, one on either side, admiring the gleam,

The glaze, the mirrory variety of it.
Let us eat our last supper at it, like a hospital plate.

I know why you will not give it to me,
You are terrified

The world will go up in a shriek, and your head with it,
Bossed, brazen, an antique shield,

A marvel to your great-grandchildren.
Do not be afraid, it is not so.

I will only take it and go aside quietly.
You will not even hear me opening it, no paper crackle,

No falling ribbons, no scream at the end.
I do not think you credit me with this discretion.

If you only knew how the veils were killing my days.
To you they are only transparencies, clear air.

But my god, the clouds are like cotton.
Armies of them. They are carbon monoxide.

Sweetly, sweetly I breathe in,
Filling my veins with invisibles, with the million

Probable motes that tick the years off my life.
You are silver-suited for the occasion. O adding machine-----

Is it impossible for you to let something go and have it go whole?
Must you stamp each piece purple,

Must you kill what you can?
There is one thing I want today, and only you can give it to me.

It stands at my window, big as the sky.
It breathes from my sheets, the cold dead center

Where split lives congeal and stiffen to history.
Let it not come by the mail, finger by finger.

Let it not come by word of mouth, I should be sixty
By the time the whole of it was delivered, and to numb to use it.

Only let down the veil, the veil, the veil.
If it were death

I would admire the deep gravity of it, its timeless eyes.
I would know you were serious.

There would be a nobility then, there would be a birthday.
And the knife not carve, but enter

Pure and clean as the cry of a baby,
And the universe slide from my side.

January 28 Celebrations from National Day Calendar

• National Pop Art Day
• Library Shelfie Day
• National Gift of the Ladybug Day
• Data Privacy Day
• National Blueberry Pancake Day
• National Kazoo Day

January 28 Word Pun
Sven just purchased an original Van Gogh coffee table for his games with Monique. He sure it’s an original because there’s a bit of veneer missing.


January 28 Word Riddle
What do you get from a forgetful cow?*


January 28 The Devil’s Dictionary Word-Pram
GALLOWS, n., A stage for the performance of miracle plays, in which the leading actor is translated to heaven. In this country the gallows is chiefly remarkable for the number of persons who escape it.

    Whether on the gallows high
    Or where blood flows the reddest,
    The noblest place for man to die—
    Is where he died the deadest.
    —Old play


January 28 Etymology Word of the Week
rigmarole
/RIG-(ə)-mə-rōl/ n., a lengthy and complicated procedure,  from "a long, rambling discourse; incoherent harangue," 1736, apparently from an altered, Kentish colloquial survival of ragman roll "long list, roster, or catalogue" (circa 1500). The origins of this are in Middle English rageman "document recording accusations or offenses," also "an accuser" (late 13th century). For this, Middle English Compendium compares Old Norse rogs-maðr "a slanderer," from older vrogs-mannr. With folk-etymology alterations along the way. By late 14th century rageman was the name of a game involving a long roll of verses, each descriptive of personal character or appearance. In Anglo-French circa 1300, Ragemon le Bon, "Ragemon the good," is the heading on one set of verses, suggesting a characterization. The sense was transferred to "foolish activity or commotion" generally by 1939.


January 28 Historic Events, Literary or Otherwise, from On This Day

• 1724 The Russian Academy of Sciences founded in St. Petersburg.
• 1754 British writer Horace Walpole, in a letter to Horace Mann, coins the word serendipity.
• 1807 London's Pall Mall becomes the first street lit by gaslight.
• 1813 Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice is published.
• 1814 French writer Stendhal's first book is published.
• 1830 Opera Fra Diavolo by Daniel Auber, premieres.
• 1851 Northwestern University is chartered in Chicago.
• 1878 Yale Daily News is published, the first college daily newspaper.
• 1887 During a snowstorm at Fort Keogh, Montana, the world's largest snowflakes are reported to be 15 inches (38 cm) wide and 8 inches (20 cm) thick.
• 1893 Edward Mcdowell's Hamlet & Ophelia premieres.
• 1915 US President Woodrow Wilson refuses to prohibit immigration of illiterates.
• 1916 Manitoba women are the first in Canada to win the right to vote and to hold provincial office.
• 1944 Leonard Bernstein's Symphony No. 1 Jeremiah premieres.

January 28 Author/Artist/Character Birthdays, from On This Day

• 1582 John Barclay, Scottish satirist writer and poet.
• 1627 Alfonso Marsh, English composer and lutenist.
• 1645 Gottfried Vopelius, German hymn composer.
• 1688 Jan Maurits Quinkhard, Dutch portrait painter.
• 1691 Johann Balthasar König, German Baroque composer.
• 1693 Gregor Werner, Austrian Baroque composer and kapellmeister.
• 1706 John Baskerville, English printer and type designer.
• 1714 Jean-Baptiste Pigalle, French sculptor.
• 1722 Johann Ernst Bach, German kapellmeister and composer.
• 1757 Antonio Bartolomeo Bruni, Italian composer.
• 1791 Ferdinand Hérold, French pianist, violinist, and composer.
• 1828 Michel Abeloos, Flemish sculptor.
• 1832 Franz Wüllner, German composer.
• 1841 Viktor Ernst Nessler, Alsatian composer.
• 1853 Jose Martí y Perez, Cuban poet.
• 1863 Ernest William Christmas, Australian painter.
• 1865 Lala Lajpat Rai, Indian author.
• 1868 Frederic Lamond, Scottish composer.
• 1868 Julian Aguirre, Argentine composer.
• 1873 Colette, French novelist.
• 1877  George Fitzmaurice, Irish writer.
• 1878 Walter Kollo, German composer of operettas.
• 1886 Marthe Bibesco, Romanian-French writer.
• 1887 Artur Rubinstein, Polish-American concert pianist.
• 1887 Lily Strickland, American composer.
• 1891 Camille Melloy [Paepe], Belgian poet.
• 1891 Karel Boleslav Jirak, Czech composer.
• 1893 Elliot Griffis, American composer.
• 1897 Valentin Kataev, novelist/playwright.
• 1898 Vittorio Rieti, Jewish Italian-American composer.
• 1898 Wies Moens, Flemish writer.
• 1900 Alice Neel, American painter.
• 1900 Hermann Kesten, German writer.
• 1900 Michael Head, British organist, pianist, and composer.
• 1903 Lotte Stam-Beese, German-Dutch architect.
• 1903 Kathleen Lonsdale, Irish crystallographer.
• 1906 Harry van Kruiningen, Dutch painter and graphic artist.
• 1907 Constantin Regamey, Ukranian pianist, composer.
• 1912 Jackson Pollock, American expressionist painter.
• 1913 Jan Masséus, Dutch composer.
• 1916 Peter Crossley-Holland, British composer.
• 1918 Harry Corbett, English puppeteer.
• 1921 Paddy Tunney, Irish traditional singer and folklorist.
• 1930 Luis de Pablo, Spanish composer.
• 1935 David Lodge, British writer.
• 1936 Robert Suderburg, American pianist, composer.
• 1937 Bette Howland [Lee Sotonoff], American writer.
• 1937 Ken Hill, English playwright.
• 1944 John Tavener, British composer.
• 1946 Gailene Stock, Australian ballerina.
• 1947 Ernie from Sesame Street.
• 1953 Hugo Hamilton, Irish writer.
• 1956 Richard Danielpour, American composer.
• 1960 Robert von Dassanowsky, Austrian-American writer.
• 1964 Sister Souljah [Lisa Williamson], American author.
• 1971 Mickalene Thomas, American artist.
• 1972 Tunde Jegede, Nigerian-British cellist, kora player, and composer.
• 1983 David Williams, Wakka Wakka Australian didgeridoo player.

Words-I-Looked-Up-This-Week Writer's Challenge 
Write a story or pram from the following words:

• bumbazed: /bum-BAYZD/ adj., perplexed, bewildered; confounded, stupefied.
• chiollagh: /CHAH-luhg/ n., a tall, wide fireplace with an open hearth.
• exosculate: /eks-OSS-kyoo-layt/ v., to kiss fervently, repeatedly, or fondly.
• glabrous: /GLĀ-brəs/ adj., (chiefly of the skin or a leaf) free from hair or down; smooth.
• hafod: /HAV-uhd/ ., a building in an area of upland pasture used as a seasonal summer dwelling by a farmer, herder, etc., accompanying animals moved up onto the hillsides for summer grazing; the pasture attached to such a dwelling, or the farmstead they constitute. More generally (Welsh English): a cottage or other dwelling in the hills.
• iktsuarpok: /ick-choo-AHR-pok/ n., INUIT, the feeling of anticipation that leads one to keep looking outside to see if anyone is coming.
• ninguid: /NING-gwid/ adj., snowy; covered in a great quantity of snow.
• siot: /shaht/ n., WELSH, a dish of oatmeal bread or oatcake broken or crushed into small pieces and soaked in buttermilk.
• strathspey: /STRATH-spā/ n., a slow Scottish dance;  a piece of music for a strathspey dance, typically in four-four time.
• word-pecker: /WəRD-pe-kər/n., a person who trifles or plays with, or quibbles over, words.

January 28, 2026 Word-Wednesday Feature
New Neologisms
/nē-ÄL-ə-ji-zəm/ n., a newly coined word or expression, from 1772 (in a translation from French), "practice of innovation in language, the use of new words or old words in new senses," from French néologisme (18th century), from neo- "new" (see neo-) + Greek logos "word" (see Logos) + -ism. The meaning "new word or expression" is from 1803. Neological "characterized by new words or phrases" is attested from 1754. Each year the Washington Post runs a neologism contest, where wordsmiths submit their new words throughout the year. Today, Word-Wednesday bring you a small sample of some of this year's entries:

• Arrestocracy, from aristocracy, Type of government that prioritizes prosecution of political enemies.
• Bumbard, from bombard, Imagining Shakespeare as a street vagrant.
• Canthankerous, from cantankerous, Those beings with no manners whatsoever.
• Certifried, from certified, A person who has just passed a board exam and who has spent many years getting an advanced degree.
• Doobious, from dubious, When you’re stoned but lie and say you’re not.
• Dumptuous, from sumptuous, What a disappointment! Food, venue, service, entertainment = Horrendous.
• Enjoyn, from enjoin, Encourage people to have a good time.
• Erascible, from irascible, The ability to remove angry written words.
• Eureeka, from eureka, Time for a shower.
• Exasturbate, from exacerbate, To make a situation worse for one’s own gratification.
• Exescrabble, from execrable, To be horrible at board games.
• Flinguistics, from linguistics, Flirtatious banter.
• Gaffable, from affable, One who typically articulates and acts in inappropriate unfortunate behavior.
• Hisognyny, from misogyny, Gals' contempt for and prejudice against men.
• Inexasperatable, from exasperate, A person who is now beyond exasperation and finds nothing exasperating anymore.
• Jailery, from jewelry, Ornamental handcuffs.
• Keyesore, from eyesore, A common affliction amongst locksmiths, manifested in arthritic fingers.
• Leschew, from eschew, Seniors with teeth issues prefer soft foods to avoid discomfort.
• Longerie, from lingerie, Lacy feminine union suits.
• Monogamoose, from monogamous, A Canadian who can only have a relationship with one moose at a time.
• Nagigator, from navigator, A backseat driver.
• Omenu, from menu, A portent of potage and platters.
• Origasmi, from origami, To be aroused by paper folding.
• Peequency, from frequency, The number of times an older adult must get up each night to urinate, as in “I had a peequency of only two last night!".
• Phale, from hale, When you're not nearly as healthy as you think you are.
• Pie, from pi, Ratio of the circumferences of a dessert plate to one’s waistline.
• Procrashtinator, from procrastinator, Fervent advocate of self-driving vehicles.
• Quarantee, from guarantee, Claims that social distancing works.
• Reguard, from regard, A watchman worth a second look.
• Repungent, from repugnant, (adj.) Something so morally reprehensible it leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
• Runch, from lunch, lunch on the run.
• Sarandipity, from serendipity, Somehow finding the nearly-invisible edge on a roll of cellophane.
• Sextemporaneous, from extemporaneous, Spontaneous hook up.
• Sneizure, from seizure, Characterized by an uncontrollable sneezing fit.
• Sousa Chef, from sous chef, Someone who can orchestrate a big meal.
• Thurstday, from Thursday, The appropriate day for quaffing a whole case of beer.
• Toycott, from boycott, An ungrateful child rejects and smashes some of his Christmas presents.
• Turdmoil, from turmoil, A case of severe intestinal distress.
• Tworous, from onerous, Twice as burdensome as might reasonably be expected.
• Urnishing, from furnishing, Selling containers that preserve dead relatives' ashes.
• Vitupperative, from vituperative, Negative feelings about plastic food storage.
• Wigloo, from igloo, Hairpiece adhesive.
• Yesumé, from resumé, 1] Granting permission; 2] Allowed, but unable to change.
• Zaftic, from zaftig, Rather chubby blood sucking parasite.

From A Year with Rilke, January 28 Entry
Am I Not the Whole?, from The Book of Hours II, 3

God, are you then the All? And I the separated one
who tumbles and rages?
Am I not the whole? Am I not all things
when I weep, and you the single one, who hears it?

Rodin, 1902
by Edward Steichen

Be better than yesterday, 
learn a new word today, 
try to stay out of trouble — at least until tomorrow, 
and write when you have the time.






*Milk of amnesia.