Coining a Word for 2025

Several issues back I used column space to spout off my disdain for particular 2024 words of the year. “Authentic” stands out in proud contrast, the word chosen by Webster in 2023, to “brain rot” and “enshittification” topping the list last year.

This new year calls for new focus. On the chalkboard in my brain in my best teacher cursive I wrote the term “sprinklage” in the upper corner opposite the date. Sporadically I used the word in pretend situations and said it aloud. It reminds me of the word “rummage,” a favorite term due to the images and emotions that spiral out of the genie lamp in my mind. Grandmas and attics, junk drawers and treasure-hunting in antiquated shops that are treasures themselves pop up.

I like the sound of -ij/j//ju syllables. Consider these words: gorgeous, rejuvenate, judicious, judge, gyrate, journey, jump, jitters, gorge. I don’t have time to kill or I would continue to see how long I could make the list.

When I first heard the term sprinklage, I assumed it was a made-up word that fit the weather conditions as we left church one Sunday morning. We laughed about the clever concoction of letters that fit the heavy mist with an intermittent sprinkle or two felt on our faces or barely visible as faint drops on windshields. I intended to use it in my 12/19/2024 column, but the composition took off in an unplanned direction that didn’t suit sprinklage. In looking it up to confirm it was not a real word, alas, I found a definition indicating it is though not widely used.

Bummer. I wanted to use it often, see if it would catch on in my crowd and become a “real” word to us. (FYI - That’s a game my high school English students played now and then. I don’t remember any of our coined terms, so they never caught on.) For the sake of accuracy, I looked sprinklage up again today to share the definition here. Would you believe I am now finding no definition? Not a trace of the meaning I found a few weeks ago!

In the revolutions of the world wide web of sources, does it circle round now and then in a convention of hula hoops and one has to be lucky enough to sneak in at the right time? Or was AI reading my mind, or listening to my ramblings when I said it aloud, and appeasing me with a suitable meaning?

Is it or isn’t it? That debate can wait. For now, I’m saying we are coining it as a noun describing a state of rain - liquid precipitation as opposed to frozen - that is lighter than and not as steady as a drizzle, like the moisture that materializes as a precursor to drizzle or as an aftermath. One might think it a heavy mist but with identifiable intermittent droplets.

A perfect circumstance for walking in the rain. I’m looking forward to early spring sprinklages.