We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig Dig the whole day through...
Or so Walt Disney's seven dwarfs claimed in Frank Churchill and Larry Morey's song.
(As a writer, I can't help wondering wistfully how much money the lyricist earned for each of those digs.)
Few of us, unless we are miners, gardeners, or earthworms (hi there!) dig the whole day through, but not many days can go by without a bit of a dig, whether it's digging in a bag for a ballpoint or digging in a kitchen drawer for a bottle opener.
The unkind or impatient of us may have a dig at someone, which involves making a hurtful remark.
Or, in America, to dig can mean to study hard for an exam.
Those of us who are still hippies may still dig, in the sense of liking, all sorts of things: as in hey man, I really dig the smell of those tie-dyed goatskin flares.
A true hippy may well live in digs, that is, cheap rented accommodation. The rarity of cheap rented accommodation is possibly the reason why hippies are all but extinct.
So rare and ancient is the hippy that any moment now one of their old digs is bound to become the focus of a dig: that is, an archaeological excavation.
The oldest thing I've ever dug up myself is a stone age handaxe...hang on, no it isn't. There was that fossil devil's toenail. Hey, and even older, a thousand pebbles that probably got spewed out of a volcano when the earth was so young it was still having major tantrums.
We're standing on history. So, dig!
Thing To Do Today: dig. This word has been around since the 1200s, but sadly no one's sure from where it was dug up.
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