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Partly cloudy. High 82F. Winds S at 5 to 10 mph..

Clear this evening. Scattered thunderstorms developing after midnight. Low 73F. Winds SSW at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of rain 40%.

Composition books, note books, binders, pens, markers, pencils and more pencils take up a lot of room while awaiting school. Knowing if I didn’t “put them up” all the items would be opened, used, tossed into drawers and otherwise misplaced, making me do the whole school thing all over again. There was no way I was doing that. Finding a handy Dollar General bag ( out of my bag of bags), I started loading things into the bright yellow plastic, figuring the yellow would be easier to see than the basic white of Target, Walmart and our local grocery store. It took several Dollar General bags to hold the accumulated wealth of items.

While hunting for a good spot amidst my various shoes, boots, flip flops, slides and a box of socks that have no friends, I noticed a bit of crimson satin peeking out from under some old Dora the Explorer socks that, of course, are years old and fit no one.

There, in my hand, was a crimson satin and lace purse, adorned with embroidery and a black satin drawstring to close it with. I suppose it could be described as a fancy mini hobo bag type of purse. Now I don’t even want to list all the purses I own, as there are a considerable amount of them, each with it’s own purpose or memory tied to it. Even the fake leather ones that are peeling, as those things tend to do, hold hair ties and barrettes or ziplock bags of make-up and mirrors, and are serving a purpose even if they aren’t presentable to the public.

But this crimson purse, the one with the lace and embroidery, is special. It’s my “reticule.” The fact that I own a reticule, that I bought it specifically because it was a reticule, harkens back to my love of dictionaries, particularly the unabridged ones.

Apparently, this love of dictionaries is an inherited trait as both Mom and Dad loved words, any words, but particularly the printed word. Some years after Dad passed away, Mom and I started trading new words. No, we didn’t hunt for new words, we didn’t flip a dictionary open and point, instead, it began rather innocently. Neither Mom nor I could stand to be reading a book, or an article, and happen upon a word we didn’t know and then pretend it didn’t happen and just skip over the word to continue with the book or article. Instead, we would reach for the dictionary, look up the word, store it in that part of our brains that held words, then continue where we left off in our reading.

With Mom’s ever so familiar “OH!!,” when she would remember something, she one day mentioned that she had come across a word she didn’t know. That word happened to be “limerence,” which means a romantic feeling toward someone, and a need to have the feeling reciprocated. So pretty much, it meant falling in love, and wanting that someone to love you back. It was a word I hadn’t heard before either, and thus it started a back and forth between us that lasted more than a decade.

It didn’t come up in every conversation, we could go months without either of us running across a word we had to look up. But when we did, it usually came up in the second sentence of our phone call, right after the basic, “hey, how are you today?” Then it was I was reading such and such a book and I saw this word, it was then spelled, pronounced, and the definition given. Sometimes the other person already knew said word, other times it was a complete revelation. We could devote several minutes discussing the usefulness of this now new word we had in our vocabulary.

I don’t remember what book Mom was reading when she burst out that she had learned a new word, and that word was “reticule.” “Oh!! I know that one!” I exclaimed excitedly. “ Just the other day I was reading a book about haunted houses in Savannah and came across that one!” “It’s a purse!!” we said in unison, resulting in gales of laughter that we both had found the same word at about the same time.

A reticule is, indeed, a purse. But a specific type of purse. The word “purse” comes from the Old English, meaning a pouch made of leather. Of course, from that, purse was used synonymously with “hand bag,” but to be proper, a purse is small and generally used for coins, while a handbag is used for various items, and is larger than a purse. Then, we also use the word “pocket book,” which comes from a pocket that was used to hold a small, pocket-sized journal people would carry to jot down information they might need to remember throughout their day. Those three words, purse, handbag and pocketbook all came into common use during the 1820’s, and we all know they are still used today, pretty much interchangeably.

A “reticule,” however, is more specific. A lady’s reticule was normally small, usually made of some sort of netting or lace and adorned with beads and/or embroidery with a drawstring to close the top, and also to put upon the lady’s arm to carry a handkerchief and some coins. The word itself comes from the Latin word “reticulum,” meaning a pattern or an arrangement of interlacing lines, which explains why a reticule was usually made of netting. The use of the word reticule for this lady’s bag was fairly short-lived, mostly used from the year 1795 to the 1820’s when the more common word “purse” took over every day language.

Mom and I then found it somewhat amusing to toss the word into our normal conversations, as in, “I lost my reticule, but I’m pretty sure it’s in the kitchen.” We imagined ourselves Victorian ladies, sitting in our velvet chairs, lacy fans waving, with a reticule loosely dangling from our arms. It was quite a vision we had of ourselves, and our fancy reticules.

Not long after we discovered this marvelous word, I happened to be looking through a catalog and saw a crimson satin and lace “hobo bag,” they called it, with some netting on the sides to hold a cell phone, or whatever else one would need without opening the entire bag.

The fact that it was on sale for $14.99 made it a sure bet that I was ordering this reticule. When it arrived, it was considerably smaller than I had thought, but carried my phone and my keys easily.

I excitedly called Mom to tell her I had an actual reticule.

She laughed then at the thought, that laugh that could carry throughout the neighborhood, and all our neighbors would know that Mary Ann had found something amusing. With Mom, the cause of her laughter could be anything, from a joke to an incident that she might have to dredge up something funny from, but she usually managed to find that humor.

My reticule went missing a few years ago, being it was small, and apparently had gotten tossed into the basket holding the socks looking for dates. When Mom passed away, I thought of that reticule and launched an all out flurry of searching for the elusive item.

The other day, when my crimson reticule peeked out from those useless socks, I smiled, I chuckled a bit to myself, and hung it on a hook. I can’t wait to carry this embroidered satin beauty out in public.

Reticule was the last “new” word Mom told me about. The last word she said she had to find in the dictionary. The word we found at about the same time, the word we could toss back and forth and pretend to be Victorian ladies sipping tea. My crimson reticule deserves it’s own hook in my closet, it holds a memory inside that satin and I intend to keep that black drawstring drawn tight, keeping that memory intact.

Stay safe. Stay well. Every lady deserves a reticule; find one you love enough to hold the memories.

Kay LeRoy is a Fort Madison native and the daughter of the late Dick and Mary Ann Fleckenstein. She now lives in Georgia.

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Partly cloudy. High 82F. Winds S at 5 to 10 mph.

Clear this evening. Scattered thunderstorms developing after midnight. Low 73F. Winds SSW at 5 to 10 mph. Chance of rain 40%.

Sunny, along with a few afternoon clouds. A stray shower or thunderstorm is possible. High 92F. Winds WNW at 5 to 10 mph.

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