The MN meaning of Liff

I remember this book!

me and my sister still refer to stubborn unchewable bits in meat as Grimsbys

kilbirnie the little bit of sunburnt skin that you were sure you had covered with factor 50 and feel hideously guilty about.

bearsden a construction made out of two kitchen chairs, a clothes airer and a spare duvet cover.

wilmslow the speed at which a toddler walks, which is inversely proportional to the speed at which you need to get somewhere.

Love this thread. Classic please MNHQ.

Shotts
those wee malteserish poos

Ecchlefechan - the feeling that comes over you when you have just struggled getting a three year old dressed and in to the car then they need a poo.

Wrestlingworth - the judgement call you make about trying to make a toddler put its trousers on.

Tockholes - The holes that appear in old pairs of underpants, due to wear and tear.

Penshaw The felt tip / crayon squiggles done on a wall when you aren't looking.
Seaham The thing that your DH comes home from the supermarket with when you specifically asked for nice ham.
Hutton Henry the sound the Hoover makes when there is Lego and tiny plastic toys stuck in the tube.

Fimbo - you're near me then..... It's now full of overpriced houses

Knockbrex - pants that crawl up your cludge every time you wear them.

Euphemia You've done the world a great service, finally I can look around, stand against a wall and sort out my knockbrex, thankyou .

Monks Toft: the sort of mohican hair you sometimes see on a very young baby.

Fovant the wobbly globe of foam you get when you've squirted washing up liquid under a fast kitchen tap.
Meavy feeling slightly unstable as you step off an escalator but have to keep going to keep up with the crowd
Crickleaze the series of sounds a saggy wicker chair makes after you've stood up
Micheldever a specialist screwdriver head used on one specific expensive item, that you can never find when you need it
Crugmeer an ugly garden tool used to grub about in unpleasant undergrowth

MNHQ this HAS to go into Classics, brilliant thread!

Plungar the sinking feeling when you realise that your children have worked out how to open the stairgate on their room.

Not that I've actually caught them at it, you understand, but the footfall is telling. And given they've been up there 90 minutes, that tells you quite how bad they've been today.

I love Chatteris.

Bethersden - the kind of duvet/eiderdown which always slides off the bed in the night.

Lumbertubs: Pseudo-IKEA subtandard toy storage.

Marking my place. Op you are a genius

My favourite bit from the book (which is IMO one of the funniest things ever written) is the corridor section.

CORRIEARKLET (n.)
The moment at which two people approaching from opposite ends of a long passageway, recognise each other and immediately pretend they haven't. This is to avoid the ghastly embarrassment of having to continue recognising each other the whole length of the corridor.

CORRIECRAVIE (n.)
To avert the horrors of corrievorrie (q.v.) corriecravie is usually employed. This is the cowardly but highly skilled process by which both protagonists continue to approach while keeping up the pretence that they haven't noticed each other - by staring furiously at their feet, grimacing into a notebook, or studying the walls closely as if in a mood of deep irritation.

CORRIEDOO (n.)
The crucial moment of false recognition in a long passageway encounter. Though both people are perfectly well aware that the other is approaching, they must eventually pretend sudden recognition. They now look up with a glassy smile, as if having spotted each other for the first time, (and are particularly delighted to have done so) shouting out 'Haaaaaallllloooo!' as if to say 'Good grief!! You!! Here!! Of all people! Will I never. Coo. Stap me vitals, etc.'

CORRIEMOILLIE (n.)
The dreadful sinking sensation in a long passageway encounter when both protagonists immediately realise they have plumped for the corriedoo (q.v.) much too early as they are still a good thirty yards apart. They were embarrassed by the pretence of corriecravie (q.v.) and decided to make use of the corriedoo because they felt silly. This was a mistake as corrievorrie (q.v.) will make them seem far sillier.

CORRIEVORRIE (n.)
Corridor etiquette demands that one a corriedoo (q.v.) has been declared, corrievorrie must be employed. Both protagonists must now embellish their approach with an embarrassing combination of waving, grinning, making idiot faces, doing pirate impressions, and waggling the head from side to side while holding the other person's eyes as the smile drips off their face, until with great relief, they pass each other.

CORRIEMUCHLOCH (n.)
Word describing the kind of person who can make a complete mess of a simple job like walking down a corridor.

Will see if I can think of any of my own.

Euphemia Tillicoultry is already taken (The man-to-man chumminess adopted by an employer as a prelude for telling an employee that he's going to have to let him go.) As is Scrabster (One of those dogs which has it off on your leg during tea.) - and Clackmannan I'm afraid! (The sound made by knocking over an elephant's-foot umbrella stand full of walking sticks. Hence name for a particular kind of disco drum riff.)

Lucretia Whereabouts in the country are you? Both of those are near where I used to live...

Achiltibuie (n): The stifled expletive you utter when you tread on a Lego brick in bare feet but can't ACTUALLY swear because DC is right next to you.

Nether Burrow (n): The tunnel your DC is digging to Australia - right in the middle of the only patch of flowers you've actually managed to convince to grow.

Kelk (n): The unidentified sludge found on your DC (usually the face). You don't want to know what it is or was, all you know is that it won't come off.
Little Kelk (n): 'Kelk' that will shift with a little spit and thumb-scrbbing
Great Kelk (n): An advanced state of 'Kelk', the removal of which can only be achieved by bathing and the use of sandpaper and dettol.

(My personal favourite from the original work has to be Kettering (n): The marks left on your bottom or thighs after sunbathing on a wickerwork chair.)