A sort of self-portrait

I was thinking about words today. You see (you may have to suspend belief here) as an editor, publisher, translator and historian, I work with words on a daily and professional basis. I try not to throw them about, oblivious to their true meaning. Instead, I attempt (not always successfully, it must be said) to choose my words with care, selecting the most appropriate one for each context, without being pretentious. It is a sad fact, and one that I am almost ashamed to admit, that one of my favourite private moment pastimes is reading dictionaries, etymologies and thesauruses in furtherance of my desire to improve my vocabulary. Anyway, to avoid any further 'blog-bloat' (have you noticed my stories are getting ever-longer?), I have to tell you that I have three favourite words. They are from three different languages, and I don't tend to have much opportunity to throw them into conversation, and nor do I ever have much need to incorporate them into my writings without a great deal of contortion. So, here is the result of just such an effort - an opportunity to throw my current favourite words into the public arena. They are, in no particular order, nauseabundo, cuchillero and indefatigable. There's a challenge to devise a coherent and comprehensible sentence using these three words! Impossible? Perhaps. The prize? The satisfaction of having taken part.


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