Yesterday[*] I finished
Life After Life. I highly recommend it, though I should declare that I am a massive fan of Kate Atkinson's writing.
Anyway, at one point during the book a character in a garden is surprised. He leaps backwards, and falls over into a cotton-eater.
Wait, back up, he falls back into a what now?
A cotton-easter.
Err, no that's not a thing, either.
At which point something weird happened. I realised that I was looking at a word, and had no idea what it was. Obviously I meet words whose meaning I don't know on a daily basis - technical terms, words in languages I can't read, obscure words that don't crop up much. I read them, and realise I don't know them. I look them up (or not, as appropriate) and move on.
A related problem, of course, now that I work on the fringes of marketingworld, is finding words that I know perfectly well but which are clearly being used to mean something other than what I think they mean. See also: neologisms, ghastly. Though at least it was immediately obvious what was meant by the word "onboarding".
Anyway, the cotton-eater. For the first time in probably thirty years, I found myself having to carefully spell out a word, syllable by syllable. Co-to-ne-as-ter. Aha! A
cotoneaster! A word I know perfectly well once it's said, but which - had I ever thought about it - I would have spelled katoniasta.
It's rather nice to know that English can still surprise me.
[*] With rather annoying timing - I still had a lot of journey left when I ran out of book.