Still racing my way through las palabras de la vivienda (about 75% done). Aquí estan algunas:
la mesilla — bedside table. I remember it as what you’d get if you crossbred una mesa (table) and una silla (chair). A table that’s so small you could sit on it (for example, to put on your slippers as you’re climbing out of bed). Not recommended, though — In my case, if I did that I’d spill un vasito de agua y también volcaría una lámpara (volcar is “to knock over”).
la manta — blanket. Flat and comforting, sort of like, um, a manta ray? You may laugh, but in fact, the “fishie” does share its Latin root with the humble “blankie”! And you needn’t worry about those “tassels” along the edge of the manta — though mantas are closely related to stingrays they don’t have stingers. Knowing that, we can all sleep a little better.
la mirilla — peephole. Not something to ask about when you’re in a locker room, or you might get a reputation as un mirón (ogler). (Need I point out the obvious relation to mirar — “to look at”?)
la mecedora — rocking chair. If you’re Canadian, it might remind you of Rick Mercer, who’s a little bit off his rocker…in a good, wholesome, Canadian way. The verb mecer means “to rock”, so perhaps “Mercer… ¡Meces!” could be a way to say “Rick Mercer, you rock!” And I’m not talking the “sitting on your front porch with a shotgun, a spittoon and a three-legged dog” kind of rocking.
la moqueta — fitted carpet. Don’t you hate how, as you get older, the carpet just doesn’t quite fit any more? Una alfombra is also a carpet or rug. Either way you should be fine, as long as you don’t go calling it una carpeta, which is a folder (as in a file folder or binder, but also the computer term for a disk folder or directory).
la sartén — frying pan. Javier jugó una buena partida de ajedrez, pero al fin tuve la sartén por el mango. — Javier played a good game of chess, but in the end I had the upper hand. Literally, “I held the frying pan by the handle.” As we all know, in chess, whoever holds the frying pan — especially if it’s one of those big honkin’ cast iron numbers — calls the shots.
el rascacielos — skyscraper. This “little rascal” is one of my favourite Spanish words! It’s quite literal, as in English: rascar is to scratch or scrape, and el cielo is the sky. Interestingly, rasgar (with ‘g’) is closely related: it means to tear or — on a guitar — to strum (hmm, can you strum things that aren’t string instruments?). Hence the famous flamenco rasgueado! ¡Dame agua! ¡Olé!
Lo siento, debo parar…that’s way too much for one day.