This morning, Steve Tilley, whose Mustard Seed Shavings are always worth investigating, invited visitors to help construct a Wall of Words to faise funds for I CAN, a UK charity that works for and with children who struggle to communicate.
As someone who rarely, if ever, stops talking this really - [no, Kathryn, you simply can't write "this really spoke to me"....]
Ah well, you get the gist.

It's a thumping good cause and an innovative way of raising money. You can add a word you love to the wall, in the hope that by the end of the month we'll have built a wall 2 miles long and inspired OpenReach to produce some more funds. Steve asked his readers to come up with a word as yet unposted, and after minimal thought, synecdoche popped into my mind.
Why?
Rewind some twenty mumble years, to a summer afternoon in Cambridge.
Scary Tutor is talking us through a piece of Prac Crit and refers to something as "synecdoche".
Brave Student Who Doesn't Mind Being Thought Foolish asks for a definition, but as Scary Tutor draws breath to explain, our attention is diverted by the sight of a basket, filled with bundles of papers, being lowered past his window. The don upstairs is moving out.
"There goes Professor X" says Scary Tutor "THAT'S synecdoche"