are made for squelching.
At the moment, as I write this, the only noise I get from walking anywhere is the cracking and crinking of ice: the snow has frozen hard, and the car's white mohican is welded on so solidly that even several trips along the motorway haven't budged it.
So I feel nostalgic for a good squelch, especially now we're in April. As dear Flanders and Swann pointed out long ago:
April brings the sweet spring showers,
On and on for hours and hours.
Except that at the moment the showers are all snow...
Ah well, there are other ways I can squelch. If someone suggests we break the ice so we can go for a nice swim in the canal I can soon squelch that idea. Ditto a picnic on the beacon, or anything at all that involves a tent.
If I were an electrician I could squelch my radio amplifier - ie cut it off when there's no signal, to prevent that annoying hiss it otherwise makes.
And if all else fails I can always mash up some rhubarb for some jam.
And how gloriously satisfying.
Thing To Do Today: squelch. This word arrived in English in the 1600s, and is an imitation of the noise it makes.