I ran into a friend who said, he really enjoys reading the yarns I tell on my blog.
The term yarn took me back for a second since I just read in a bio on Lincoln, he loved spinning a good yarn.
Not common usage, but a charming one.
It’s called poetic license, a tool of the trade embellishing just a hair, accessorizing what’s already there, like adding pearls to a little black dress.
Emily Dickinson said, tell all the truth, but tell it on slant.
If David Sedaris was asked, did his sister really wear a fat suit, I’ll bet he’d laugh.
A yarn is an anecdote, saga, account or tale. A narrative, description or chronicle of one’s own perspective, possibly a bit rambling, sometimes perceived as a a legend, lore or tall tale.
Spinning a yarn…giving that story or report a particular interpretation favorable or otherwise.
A yarn could be a cock and bull story, one that’s been passed down so the listener wonders, could this be true? Was George Washington really a crossdresser? Well, he did love clothes we’ve been told, so could it be factual he and Martha shared frocks parading around Mount Vernon like a couple of show girls?
See how easy it is to spin a yarn, or a passable myth that leaves you scratching your head? Poor George. We already know he had wooden teeth since they’ve toured the country more than once to sold out shows. But are they really his choppers? Or is it an old yarn spun long ago told so many times, it has legs to go with those tusks?
Excuse me will you? I need to go spin one myself.
Once upon a time there was a an Italian thin girl from Connecticut who wanted to be a molecular biologist, but then Vogue magazine got in the way. 🙂