epiphyte noun Botany: a plant that grows on another plant, especially one that is not parasitic, such as the numerous ferns, bromeliads, air plants, and orchids growing on tree trunks in tropical rainforests. DERIVATIVES epiphytal |-ˈfʌɪt(ə)l| adjective, epiphytic |-ˈfɪtɪk| adjective ORIGIN mid 19th cent.: from epi-‘in addition’ + Greek phuton ‘plant’.

Hegira noun: Muhammad's departure from Mecca to Medina in ad 622, marking the consolidation of the first Muslim community. The Muslim era reckoned from Muhammad's departure from Mecca: the second century of the Hegira. (hegira)an exodus or migration. ORIGIN via medieval Latin from Arabic hijra ‘departure’, from hajara ‘emigrate’.

embrocation noun: a liquid used for rubbing on the body to relieve pain from sprains and strains. [ mass noun ] : a bottle of embrocation. [ count noun ] : a range of embrocations, tinctures, syrups, and tisanes. ORIGIN late Middle English: from medieval Latin embrocatio(n-), from the verb embrocare, based on Greek embrokhlotion’.

diachronic adjective: concerned with the way in which something, especially language, has developed and evolved through time. Often contrasted with synchronic. the census is also a diachronic data set. linguistic change is the diachronic aspect of linguistic variation. DERIVATIVES diachroneity |ˌdʌɪəkrəˈniːɪti, -ˈneɪɪti| noun, diachronically adverb, diachronistic |dʌɪˌakrəˈnɪstɪk| adjective, diachrony |dʌɪˈakrəni| noun ORIGIN mid 19th cent.: from dia-‘through’ + Greek khronos ‘time’ + -ic.

vespine adjective: of or relating to wasps. ORIGIN mid 19th cent.: from Latin vespa ‘wasp’ + -ine1.

I love this one. We all know that the suffix ine makes an adjective, easy to recognize in feline or canine, and vulpine is good:

vulpine adjective: relating to a fox or foxes. the thriving vulpine population. crafty; cunning: Karl gave a vulpine smile. ORIGIN early 17th cent.: from Latin vulpinus, from vulpes ‘fox’. [just in case you didn’t know the root]

But my favourite is

pavonine ajective rare: of or like a peacock. such power is capricious, pavonine, and prismatic. ORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from Latin pavoninus, from pavo, pavon- ‘peacock’.

Just for fun.(The game is on.)

Stratford today; reviews tomorrow.

Well, it’s tomorrow, and as predicted I am tired. So: two brief reviews. It’s a good thing I am not a critic because I don’t have to go into detail. Julius Caesar is not my favourite Shakespeare play but not my least well liked, either. Both my companion and I had memories of the Wayne-Shuster send-up of the play. Surely everyone remembers Johnny Wayne and Frank Shuster?

Wayne and Shuster were a Canadian comedy duo formed by Johnny Wayne and Frank Shuster. They were active professionally from the early 1940s until the late 1980s, first as a live act, then on radio, then as part of The Army Show that entertained troops in Europe during World War II, and then on both Canadian and American television. Wik[pedia

I’ll have a dry Martinus.

You mean Martini.

When I want two I’ll ask for them.

They were on the Ed Sullivan Show 67 times, more than any other act.

They came to Winnipeg when we were still there and Bill and I took them out for an after-theatre supper. We went to a Salisbury House and they had ‘nips” (aka hamburgers). The staff of the place knocked themselves out serving the famous pair. They were household names.

Anyway…

The best-remembered line was “I told him, Julie, don’t go!’, repeated naggingly often by another Canadian comedian, Sylvia Lennick (1915-2009), playing Calpurnia, Julius Caesar’s wife. I guess any of us who ever heard that line thinks of it whenever we see the play, It’s a fond memory. I don’t think this production of the play will be.

I was looking forward to it, another instance of the Stratford Season”s female actors taking over male roles (many more in this production). This time Seana McKenna, who did a brilliant job as Richard III a few seasons ago, stepped into Caesar’s toga.She had a Roman haircut and she looked great. But she sounded to me like a little old Italian man, not effective. She loomed as a wonderful ghost, though, not menacingly but judgementally and with great presence. I liked Brutus, played by Jonathan Goad, and Mark Antony, played by Michelle Giroux, was smoothly ironic in her speech to the crowd (“and Brutus is an honourable man”).

That’s enough. I’ll do Napoli Millionari tomorrow.