Collecting Collocations

If you are reading this blog for the first time by reading this post then I should explain that you have arrived in the “just after middle” of Coincidence Month.

During Coincidence Month your humble blog writer – me – is looking to coincidence to inspire content.

And, along the way, I find myself musing about coincidence - its nature, its manifestation and, occasionally, its grammar.

The other day I wondered aloud what the collective adjective surrounding coincidence should be, but no one took me up on it.

However, Janet, a faithful contributor to this blog used the collocation - a stream of coincidence – which got me thinking AND lead me to buy a copy of The Oxford Collocations – a dictionary for students of English.

It’s a hefty tome – I asked the woman in the shop if she had a lighter version but the answer was no – but it’s an excellent bedtime read.

I turn now, in my darkest need, to its pages and learn that “stream” doesn’t figure in the collocations listed for the quantitive aspect of coincidence.

And that I think is excellent news for Janet – who wants to use a corroded collocation (corroded = overused) when you can employ originality?

The Oxford offers; Series, set and string.

Here’s a string – I write about Rosalind (Rosie) one day and the next day I find a Rose blooming in the garden; I ring my wife who ended up in Germany again (probably my fault for taking her to the airport on Friday) and tell her about the Rose in the garden and she tells me – “I got given a Rose on stage last night”.

She also got given two bars of Lindt chocolate – apparently the promoter gave her a bowl of tasty soup before the show and then asked; “what would you like to eat after the show?”

“Chocolate “ was the reply.

The promoter was a little surprised, obviously thinking more along the wobbly lines of Spaghetti Bolognese but what’s the point of being a promoter if you can’t indulge the whims of passing performers?

Anyway, after discussing chocolate for a bit (a favourite subject) I passed the phone to Minnie who has been waiting for her monthly menstruation to start and I returned to the kitchen and the washing up.

No sooner was the phone put back into its cradle than the long overdue period began and Minnie came to tell me about this apparent coincidence.

I had just poured the left over tomato sauce into the sink.

So that could constitute a series.

And, to complete the set……

I am in the car with Minnie, I have just picked her up from a friend’s house to take her to ballet class.

On the way over I find myself humming and singing Bob Dylan’s “The Man in Me”.

Unbeknown to me, Minnie is able to play with the braces on her teeth to create a sort of buzzing sound that is only audible in the secret recesses of her brain and when she sits down in the car and we set off she is doing just that.

Half a kilometre mile down the road I suddenly start whistling the opening of Beethoven’s Fifth symphony.
“Were you humming that before?’ asks Minnie.

“No, it was The Man in Me by…..”, I find that most of my explanations to my teenage daughter occupy too much of the space/time continuum nowadays.

“That’s a coincidence!”