A Bit of Flummery for Serendipity

(The Queen at the Beehive posted a challenge--that is, she hurled the gauntlet at the feet of all bloggers in their aquaintance--and challenged them to post within 24 hours. It's actually been closer to 57. But here I am, anyway, and perhaps this at least merits not getting squid jello.)

A while ago I discovered two things about two names. Both things surprised me because they were so obvious--like Columbus's method of standing an egg on its end, I suppose: they were obvious afterwards.

First was Floyd. The name is simply an Anglicised form of Lloyd (that Welsh double-l sounds like "thl" or "fl": our pronunciation "loyd" is another Anglicisation). This knowledge came to me in a moment of serendipity--the sort that sneaks up on you in the shower and makes you want to hit your head and exclaim, "Well, duh!"--that sort. It was ridiculous how long I had known about that double-l in Welsh without connecting Floyd and Lloyd. ("Fluellen," from "Llewellyn," is another instance of fl-for-ll. So is "flummery.")

Then came Durward (as in Quentin Durward; I haven't read it but the name is hard to forget). The meaning came upon me quite suddenly, like staring at collection of lines and blotches and realising that they form a face. It's "dur-ward," that is, "door-guard." (Like Edward and wardrobe and lots more.)

It makes me wonder: how many other things am I missing that sit right under my nose?